Flight of Souls
by Katherine Dark
Summary: When Ardeth Bey spared the life of an female archeologist, he got more than he bargained for. And why would a man claiming to be Ramses II want her dead?
1. Default Chapter

Flight of Souls  
Chapter 1 – Ancient Times 

Author's notes – The prologue is long – it'll take a couple of chapters to get through all the background I ended up having to write. Please stay with me! I'll be commenting on similarities/differences with real history at the end of each chapter. I haven't done a huge amount of research, but I have done some! Please review, I look forward to your thoughts.

I don't own any of the characters portrayed in the Mummy or Mummy Returns, and I'm not making any money at this.

* * *

Anck-su-namun stood motionless as her handmaidens applied the paint to her body, creating the delicate black lines that would appear, from a distance at least, to be a mesh garment. Her eyes watched the process in the mirror. Yes, her body was perfect again. With a quick glance, she noted a girl entering the room, carrying a young child. Pregnancy had been a burden Anck-su-namun had no intention of bearing again. She'd borne a healthy son, who was now just over a year old. There would be no more. The child had secured her position in Pharaoh's affections, and she would be Queen in a few short weeks. She looked at her reflection again, and her lips tightened as she noted the women delicately painting lines to hide the stretch marks on her belly. No, there would be no more children. She knew the necessary herbs to be sure of that.

While she stood, she indifferently watched the nursemaid with her son. Young Prince Horemheb was strong and healthy. The Pharaoh was delighted with the boy. Prince Ramses, his son by his first wife was currently away from Thebes. Anck-su-namun said a quick silent prayer that he would have a chariot accident or something before returning home. No matter. When she was secure as Queen she'd see to it that something happened to him. Or Imhotep would.

Imhotep. Anck-su-namun closed her eyes as the handmaiden lined her eyelids with kohl. Since Seti was currently away from Thebes as well, she would take this opportunity to go to her lover. The passion she and Imhotep shared burned so bright that she could scarce draw breathe in his presence. It was becoming harder and harder to conceal their relationship from Pharaoh. Yet conceal it, she knew they must. Their plan was still unfolding. In a few weeks she and Seti would be married, and she would be Queen of Egypt. After that, she and Imhotep would plot the death of Seti's heir, Prince Ramses. Imhotep did not think it necessary to kill Ramses's wife, Princess Nefertari, but Anck-su-namun disagreed. Nefertari hated Anck-su-namun, and rightly so, she mused. After all, Anck-su-namun and her lover planned to kill Nefertari's husband. And, after a decent interval during which Anck-su-namun's son would be declared Pharaoh's heir, she and Imhotep planned to kill Pharaoh himself. Life would then be as she wished it, Anck-su-namun thought dreamily. She would be Queen Regent for her son's sake until he grew old enough to rule on his own. She and Imhotep would be together without fear of discovery, for who would deny the widowed Queen the right to take a lover? Together they would wield absolute power over Egypt.

Eying the baby again, Anck-su-namun fought the urge to laugh out loud. Yes, Seti was delighted with the strong, healthy prince. As was Imhotep. Both men believed themselves to be the father of the boy. As for Anck-su-namun, she honestly did not know which one actually was. It served her purpose, however, to tell each man what he wanted to hear.

Young Horemheb began to fuss and Anck-su-namun narrowed her eyes. "Aset," she snapped, "take him away!"

Just then another girl entered the room. "I'll take him, Aset," she said, reaching for the child. The nurse handed the boy to her. He chortled happily and reached for the dangling gold and lapis earrings that she wore. "No, no, little brother," the girl said smiling, "those are not for you."

"Thank you, Tiye," Anck-su-namun said coolly. "You have a way with children."

Princess Tiye, returned Anck-su-namun's cool smile, her odd golden eyes meeting Anck-su-namun's dark ones. "I enjoy them," she replied to her father's mistress. With a slight nod, Tiye left the room with the baby."

Anck-su-namun returned to the contemplation of herself in the mirror. Young Princess Tiye was another of Seti's daughters. Like Nefertari, she was the child of one of Pharaoh's concubines. Tiye would be spared when it came time to thin the ranks of Seti's possible heirs. She could be relegated to the nursery and given the task of bringing up the boy prince. As she was only fifteen years of age, she was young enough to be molded however Anck-su-namun and Imhotep chose.

* * *

High Priest Imhotep waited impatiently for Anck-su-namun. They had few opportunities to be together, and he was eager to be alone with her. He prowled the chamber restlessly, waiting for her arrival. Finally, the door opened and the gorgeous woman strolled in, clad only in a loincloth, some jewelry, a wig decorated with gold and silver strands, and some paint. At first gingerly, and then with increasing passion, Imhotep slid his hand over her shoulder as they kissed, unknowingly smearing the body paint.

Suddenly they hear the unmistakable sound of Pharaoh's arrival. Quickly Imhotep concealed himself as Anck-su-namun posed by the large statue of a cat, hoping to seem as though she'd been waiting for Seti all along. As Imhotep watched in horror, however, Seti noticed at once the smeared paint on his mistress's shoulder. The time for deception had passed. It was now time for action. Quickly he stepped forward and drew his sword.

Anck-su-namun knew with horrified clarity that her carefully laid plans were now in shambles. Seti still breathed, but he could not now be allowed to live. Not only had Imhotep attacked him, but also Seti knew that she herself had been unfaithful. If Seti did not die, then both Imhotep and Anck-su-namun would die horrible deaths. Grabbing a knife, she stabbed it into the Pharaoh with all her strength.

Imhotep's priests rushed forward to pull him away. Anck-su-namun heard the commotion in the outer chamber and knew that the Medjai would be there within moments. They could not both escape. Imhotep was pulling against his priests, calling for her. "Only you can resurrect me!" she hissed. Their future together might yet be saved if he could escape. The priests pulled Imhotep from the chamber, and Anck-su-namun turned to face the Medjai as they entered the room. As they paused, shocked at the sight of Pharaoh's body on the floor, she spat "My body is no longer his temple," and used the bloody knife in her hand to end her own life. The diversion caused by her suicide giving Imhotep the time he needed to escape.

Imhotep raced through the corridors, surrounded by his terrified priests. Suddenly, he stopped. Princess Tiye stood there, holding the young child, her eyes staring, confusion written on her face. Swiftly he reached out and grasped her arm. "You must come with me," he ordered. Confusion was replaced by alarm as he hustled her and the baby she held out of the palace.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Nefertari was the wife of Ramses II, who was also known as Ramses the Great. He reigned as Pharaoh 1290-1224 BC. There are some differences of opinion on what Nefertari's parentage was, though she seems to have been of royal blood. Many scholars think she was a daughter of Seti I. In Mummy Returns, she is called Seti's daughter, so that's what I went with – making her the child of one of his concubines. This makes her Ramses's half sister. It was pretty common for the Egyptian Royalty to marry their siblings, so her being both Seti's daughter and his daughter-in-law is perfectly plausible.

Princess Tiye isn't a made up character, per se – although I know very little about the real princess. One website listed Seti's daughters as Henutmire and Tia. Henutmire was listed as being the daughter of Tuya, Seti's wife. (Not sure that he had more than one). There was no such distinction made for Tia, so I chose to have her be the child of a concubine. A few generations back there was an Egyptian queen named Tiye, which is probably pronounced very similarly. Therefore I chose to use this spelling for my Egyptian heroine, and the more modern looking spelling, Tia, for my more modern heroine. This way it will be easier to tell them apart, and still emphasize the similarity. It seems logical to me that Seti's daughter might be named after his great-great grandmother. Because I know nothing else about the real princess, I felt free to make up a character for her.

One more historical note – Seti I apparently died of natural causes after a 14-year reign. He wasn't actually murdered by his mistress and her lover or anyone else. But hey, let's not ruin a good story by confusing it with fact!


	2. Chapter 2 Hamunaptra

Flight of Souls

Chapter 2 – Hamunaptra

Tiye sat against the stone wall, trembling with fatigue and fear, her arms around the sleeping child. They'd endured a harrowing chariot ride at top speed through the dark desert, stopping only to rest and water the horses. Imhotep had whipped the horses faster and faster, well beyond any safe speed, as the chariots containing his followers fell behind. Tiye had not been able to do more than clutch Horemheb with one hand and the rail of the chariot with the other. When they'd reached their destination, Tiye's fears had only increased. She'd never been away from Thebes, before – rarely even been out of the palace. She'd seen enough paintings however, to recognize this place at once. Hamunaptra, City of the Dead. What in the name of Ra himself could Imhotep want here? Imhotep had taken her arm and pulled her into a building, pushing her into a bare stone room. Since then he'd ignored both her and the child. Now he was raging – pacing back and forth across the small room, snarling obscenities. The priests who lived in Hamunaptra clustered in the doorway in bewilderment. Spinning on his heel, Imhotep reached out and grabbed the chief priest by the front of his robes. Tiye couldn't hear what Imhotep had hissed into the man's face, but they'd left the room together moments later. Tentatively, the priests came forward and helped her to her feet. They'd shown her to a small chamber, obviously a room shared by two of the priests. They'd brought food, wine and water for washing, before leaving her alone. As courteous as they'd been, Tiye still heard the sound a key turning in the lock. Sighing, she tucked Horemheb into on of the narrow beds and turned to lie down on the other.

Images spun through her head, bits and pieces of conversation between Imhotep and his priests. Had Imhotep really killed the Pharaoh? Was Anck-su-namun really dead? Why had Imhotep kidnapped her and Horemheb? What possible use could he have for them? Nefertari loved Tiye, true, but would this influence Nefertari's husband, Ramses at all? Ramses had little use for his younger half sister, and he had no use at all for the infant half brother borne by his father's upstart concubine. She doubted that either of them was of much value as a hostage, not with Seti dead. For all his faults, Seti had been a loving parent. Ramses was now Pharaoh, Tiye realized.

For two days, Tiye and her little half brother were locked in the small room. For two days they saw no one but the priests who brought their meals. Tiye had begged to be told what was happening, but she received no answers. On the evening of the third day she heard the key turn in the lock, and looked over to see Imhotep step through the doorway.

"My Lord Imhotep, why am I here?" Tiye asked, keeping her voice as steady as she could.

Imhotep glanced to where Horemheb sat playing a game with sticks and polished stones. "I brought you here to look after the boy," Imhotep answered, looking back at Tiye.

"But why do you want him?" Tiye asked in bewilderment. "What is he to you?"

Imhotep smiled coldly. "He is my son."

Tiye gasped, barely able to comprehend this. Anck-su-namun had been unfaithful to Seti? For that crime she had risked being stoned to death. She stared from Imhotep to Horemheb, and then raised her eyes to Imhotep again. "Is Anck-su-namun dead?"

An odd flash of pain crossed Imhotep's eyes. "Yes."

"And you killed my father?"

"Yes." Imhotep watched as Tiye covered her mouth with her hand and leaned back against the wall. "Allow me to explain, princess. Anck-su-namun and I planned many things. We planned to arrange the death of your brother Ramses, so that MY son, Horemheb, would be heir to Pharaoh. When the time was right, we had planned to kill Pharaoh, so that Anck-su-namun would be Queen Regent in his name. We had planned to rule Egypt together, and have our son rule after us. Now we must form a new plan.

I will resurrect Anck-su-namun and she shall stand at my side for all eternity. However, she was never crowned Queen, and she is now known to have been unfaithful. Ramses is now Pharaoh. Horemheb is still heir, but that is only until Ramses has a son of his own. Horemheb's parentage will now be uncertain. It will be whispered that he is indeed mine, and not Seti's son. We must act quickly." He moved toward Tiye and put his hand on her face, raising it to meet his eyes. "A man married to a royal princess has a claim on the throne should there not be a clear male heir."

Tiye's mind whirled and a sudden weight appeared in her stomach. "What about Nefertari?" she managed to say.

Imhotep stroked her throat, his fingers brushing her collarbone. "I will deal with Nefertari when the time comes."

"What about Anck-su-namun?" she gasped. "If you can indeed resurrect her, she will not be pleased."

Imhotep shrugged, his fingers curling around her neck. He was now so close to her that her breasts were brushing against his chest. Tiye tried to shrink back closer to the wall. "A man is allowed more than one wife. And if you have a daughter, she could marry my son, making his claim clearer. Oh yes, Tiye, this new plan will work. I will be Pharaoh. Nothing can stop me now."

Stepping away from her, he opened the door. A group of priests entered and stood waiting. "Come, my cat-eyed princess. It is time for you to become my wife."

* * *

Her new chamber was much larger and more luxurious than the old one had been, but it was still a prison. It had been nearly two months since she had been married to Imhotep in that unceremonious way. Immediately after the ceremony, one of the priests had taken Horemheb, and Imhotep had brought her to this new chamber, locking the door behind them. Tiye had told herself that it would be useless to fight, pointless to do more than close her eyes and endure. Still, the aura of evil she perceived around Imhotep had been such that she had been unable to simply acquiesce. It had indeed been useless. Imhotep had merely tightened his hands about her throat until lack of air had rendered her helpless. Then he'd done as he chose.

Tiye sat before the window and wearily leaned her head against the sill. Since that day, he'd visited her chamber every day, sometimes more than once. He seemed determined to get her pregnant. She rubbed her flat stomach nervously. It was possible that he already had. She hadn't fought since the first time. The bruises had faded, but the lesson had been learned. She shuddered at the memories. Imhotep seemed to take delight in prolonging the daily encounters, forcing her to serve him in different ways. Sometimes he required her to dance for him, sometimes to bathe him. Sometimes he would instruct her in sexual acts she'd never before even heard of. She always obeyed; inwardly despising herself for her lack of courage, even as she knew that resisting meant only pain.

Imhotep had gone that morning. The process of mummification took seventy days, so Anck-su-namun would soon be entombed. He would conceal himself near Thebes until Anck-su-namun had been buried, then break into her tomb. He would steal her body and bring her back here to Hamunaptra, where he would try to resurrect her. As horrifying as that seemed to Tiye, she found herself hoping that it would succeed. With Anck-su-namun alive, she hoped Imhotep would leave her alone.

* * *

Author's notes:

At the time of Seti's death, Ramses had at least two wives (he ended up with eight in all), and seven children, five of which were sons. This however, would make Imhotep's plan for becoming Pharaoh on the strength of being Tiye's husband wildly optimistic at best – ludicrous at worst. So I chose to ignore these facts, and pretend that at the time he became Pharaoh, that Ramses only had the one wife – Nefertari – and no children.


	3. Chapter 3 Consequences

Flight of Souls 

**Chapter 3 - Consequences**

It had all gone horribly wrong, Tiye knew. She'd watched from her window as Imhotep had arrived with the body of the woman he planned to resurrect. She'd watched as other chariots arrived, and the Medjai had rushed into the city. She'd waiting several hours, wondering what had happened before the door to her chamber had been unlocked and a member of the Medjai had stepped in. He'd recognized her immediately, bowed and left. Since then she'd been alone except for Horemheb, who had been returned to her care. The Medjai guards had brought them meals, but they would not talk to Tiye at all.

Five days after the Medjai had arrived, a large, opulent chariot had pulled up and Tiye had been astonished to see Ramses II, Pharaoh of Egypt alighting. Soon afterward, Tiye's door had opened and two members of the Medjai appeared to escort her to the Pharaoh's presence.

As befit the daughter of a King, Tiye kept her face expressionless and her head high as she was escorted to the large hall. She carried Horemheb on her hip, the child sensing her solemnity and remaining quiet and sober. Inwardly she was quaking with fear. What would Ramses do with her? Possibly she would be hustled back to Thebes and immured in the harem for the remainder of her life. At best he might marry her off to a trusted man who would overlook her lack of virginity for the honor of marrying a princess.

The guards stopped just outside the door of the hall. From there, Tiye could see Ramses sitting before Imhotep, who was kneeling in chains before Pharaoh. Tiye could clearly hear Ramses's deep scornful voice accusing Imhotep of blasphemy. Tiye could also hear the voice of Imhotep taunting Ramses. She shuddered involuntarily. Imhotep was making no effort to plead for mercy. He was practically daring Ramses to have him executed. "Enough!" Ramses shouted. "I sentence you to endure the Hun-die!" A sudden gasp swept the hall and even Imhotep went silent. "Medjai! Take him and load him down with so many chains he will be unable even to move until preparations can be made!" Pharaoh's bodyguard grabbed Imhotep and hustled him from the room. The Medjai guarding Tiye stepped aside to let them pass. As Imhotep drew level with Tiye, he smiled evilly. "Death is only the beginning," he hissed to her. Tiye stepped back involuntarily, her eyes wide and frightened. Imhotep laughed without mirth, the sound fading as the Medjai pushed him down the corridor.

Still shaken, Tiye fought to keep her composure as she and her Medjai escort approached the large throne-like chair Ramses occupied. She knelt before him, and setting the child on the ground, bent to prostrate herself, forehead to the floor. Closing her eyes she waited, scarcely breathing. At last Ramses spoke. "Sit back, Tiye."

She sat back on her heels and placed her hand on her heart. "Divine Pharaoh," she murmured.

Ramses narrowed his eyes. "Why do I find you here at Hamunaptra?"

Tiye answered, "Lord Imhotep forced me to accompany him when he fled Thebes, Your Majesty."

"Why?"

"He told me he wished me to look after the child."

Ramses looked at Horemheb as though he were looking at a particularly foul blot on the floor. "He confessed that the child was his."

"So he told me, Your Majesty."

"I'm told you were married to that filth."

She kept her eyes lowered. "Against my will, Your Majesty. I would not have willingly done so."

"Was the marriage consummated?"

Tiye flushed and bit her lip. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Are you with child?"

Tiye flushed even darker. "It is very likely, Your Majesty."

Ramses glared at his half sister. "I cannot allow any seed of that blasphemer to exist on this earth.

Tiye looked up, but Ramses was not looking at her, but at Horemheb. "Your Majesty, you cannot mean to..." she broke off aghast. "Ramses, brother, I beg you!"

"Silence!" Ramses snapped. He nodded to one of the Medjai, who came forward and lifted the boy. "Take care of it now."

"No!" Tiye screamed, flinging herself forward and grasping Ramses's ankle. "I beg you, my lord, do not do this! Do not murder a child!" She raised her golden eyes to his, hers brimming with tears. "He is but a baby, and innocent, no matter who his father."

Ramses kicked her off, his foot connecting hard with her cheekbone, knocking her to the floor. "You," he thundered, "that foul man's whore, has no right to ask anything of me." He stood over her as she lay sobbing hysterically on the floor. "If you are so anxious to look after that bastard, you may do so with my blessing. Look after him you will. For all eternity." He jerked his head toward the Medjai guards and stepped back as they came forward. They lifted Tiye from the floor and half dragged and half carried her from the room.

* * *

When the Medjai escorted the priest into Tiye's chamber the next day, she had regained her composure. He smiled at her kindly, and she managed a slight smile in return. "What must I do, my lord?"

The priest set a cup onto a low table in front of Tiye's chair. "Drink, my child. Drink it all, and quickly. There will be no pain." Tiye nodded and took the cup. After draining it, she set it carefully on the table again. The priest smiled encouragingly. "Rise and walk around. When you begin to feel tired, lie down upon your bed."

Tiye nodded again, and rose, pacing aimlessly around the room. She paused once to gaze from the window, watching the sun as it sunk toward the horizon. "Will you tell my sister Nefertari I bear her no ill will?" Tiye asked the priest.

"I will, Your Highness. Rest now."

Tiye crossed to the bed and lay down. Carefully she arranged the folds of her gown and smoothed her hair. She crossed her arms on her breast and concentrated on breathing deeply. The priest watched carefully. Tiye's breathing became slower and slower, until at last, it stopped. The man waited for several more minutes before placing his hand on her throat. He felt no pulse.

* * *

Author's notes:

I had no idea how to spell the curse that was put on Imhotep, so I just made something up. My apologies to anyone who actually knows how it's spelled.

I've vilified Ramses pretty seriously in this story so far, and will continue to do so, probably without justification. The reign of Ramses II or Ramses the Great was actually marked by much prosperity. He was a great builder, creating many monuments and temples. He also was the first king in history to sign a peace treaty with his enemies (the Hittites). Most of the Pharaohs in the 20th dynasty took Ramses's name as their own when they became Pharaoh. Most Pharaohs were considered at least semi-divine, but pilgrimages continued to be made to temples and shrines in his name for centuries after his death. He reigned for 67 years, and died at the age of 96. He outlived many of his heirs. His successor, in fact, was his 13th son. The first twelve didn't outlive their father.

Ah well. Artistic license, you know. Perhaps Ramses is used to being vilified. He is thought to have been the Pharaoh who dealt with Moses over the Hebrew slaves leaving Egypt – the ten plagues, the parting of the Red Sea, etc.


	4. Chapter 4 Approaching Tirza

Flight of Souls Chapter 4 – Approaching Tirza 

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when Ardeth emerged from his tent. With a yawn and a stretch, he headed toward the horse enclosures, rolling his shoulders to loosen them up. He stopped by a small enclosure, occupied by only one horse. The gray mare nickered as he approached her. Entering the pen, he reached out to stroke her soft muzzle. "A few weeks yet, hmmm my love?" he murmured, running his hand over her bulging sides. The mare nickered again and butted her head against his shoulder. Ardeth chuckled softly and continued to fondle her. This would be her first foal, and Ardeth was anxious about it. Dawn's Light had been his favorite mount until advancing pregnancy had made hard riding impractical.

Like most of the desert warriors, Ardeth rode mares into battle. The reason for this was basic practicality. Mares were thought to have more endurance than a male horse. A mare can also run and urinate at the same time. A male horse cannot. He must stop and stretch out to relieve himself. A horse that doesn't have to stop for any reason is a great advantage in the long distance treks often necessary in the desert. It had caused great difficulties several hundred years ago, he mused, remembering old tales. The Crusaders from Europe had arrived riding stallions. The Arabic warriors had been riding mares. More than one charge had ended up with the combatants spending more time separating their horses than killing their enemies.

Giving Dawn's Light a final pat, he moved to the next pen, a larger one that held four horses. Again, all four were mares. Midnight Song was another favored mount. Older than Dawn's Light, she'd had five foals over the years. One of them, two year old Flute Song was Ardeth's project for the morning. A man who spent his life fighting from horseback spent a great amount of time training his horses. The two-year old filly had been started under saddle a few months ago and had mastered the basics. Now Ardeth would work with her on more advanced lessons. But first, he thought with a smile, a gallop to pleasure them both. A coal black copy of her mother, Flute Song danced coquettishly as Ardeth brushed her coat. "Easy, easy," he said softly. "We'll run in a moment." Once saddle and bridle were in place, he led her from the enclosure and swung easily onto her back.

* * *

Tia DeWitt smiled with anticipation. The trek from Cairo had been longer than she'd expected, but her map indicated that they were very near their destination. She'd always been drawn to Egyptian history, something that had amused her father, a math professor at a small university in Connecticut. After Tia's parents had passed away, she'd decided to visit the land she'd dreamed of for years. She had obtained a clerical position at the Cairo Museum of Antiquities, and spent much of her free time familiarizing herself with the exhibits. Well, whatever free time she hadn't been spending with Rob. Robert Varne was the son of one of the museum's patrons. While she was well aware that the Rob's father, Sir Randolph Varne, was very much opposed to her friendship with Rob, she wasn't terribly concerned about it. Rob was a pleasant fellow and she enjoyed the time they spent together. Much as she thought Rob would like to be more than a casual date, she had no intention of getting deeply involved.

Tia glanced around at the other members of the party. There were eight of them total, including herself and the guide hired by the museum. She wondered a bit why the curator of the museum had urged the group toward this particular site. Supposedly, it was a small burial site. According to the curator's research, two of Pharaoh Seti I's children were buried there. Tia wondered if the research was rather sketchy. The party was made up of young, less experienced archeologists, and they'd been cautioned to keep their destination secret. Perhaps she and the others had been sent to check the area out and see if it was worth sending a more acknowledged team in.

She leaned forward and stroked the neck of the bay gelding she was riding. She couldn't wait!

* * *

"Lord Ardeth," a voice called as he neared the encampment on the now tired filly. Ardeth narrowed his eyes and recognized the patrol rider from the Tirza district.

"Rashid, what are you doing here? You should not be back until tomorrow at the earliest."

Rashid bowed quickly. "My lord, there is a team of archeologists approaching the burial ground."

Ardeth's eye's narrowed further. "How many?"

"Eight, including a guide. They will reach the site by sunset."

"Damnation." Making eye contact with Rashid, he nodded a dismissal. "Thank you. Go rest." Quickly he stripped the tack from Flute Song and gave her a thorough, if rather quick rub down. As soon as he had finished with the horse, he strode across the encampment until he reached the largest tent. An attendant was standing at the opening, but Ardeth ignored him, brushing past quickly and entering the tent. Once inside he stood for a moment and waited for his vision to adjust to the sudden dimness after the brightness of the desert sun outside.

"Ardeth? What do you here?" A deep, rich voice sounded from near the center of the tent.

Turning his head toward the sound, Ardeth bowed to the old man sitting on a low chair in front of a charcoal brazier. "Grandfather. I have news."

Lord Asim ibn Abdullah was more than seventy years old and had not been strong enough to ride to battle for many years. Ardeth had been War Commander of this tribe of the Medjai for a decade. However, Lord Asim was a revered leader with a commanding presence, and no one, particularly his beloved grandson, took him for granted or gainsaid his word.

The Medjai had once been the sacred bodyguard of Pharaohs of Egypt. Although there was no longer a Pharaoh to guard, the Medjai still had important duties. Sacred sites, generally temples or tombs still dotted the country. Many were of no particular importance save for historical curiosity, and those could be examined with impunity. Some, like the Sphinx, were so obvious that they were impossible to guard. However, certain areas were still kept secret and guarded carefully. The twelve tribes of the Medjai were scattered about the land, each charged with guarding those sites within their area. The Bey Tribe, which was Ardeth's command, was responsible for the city of Hamunaptra as well as several smaller, less well-known sites. The burial ground at Tirza was one of these. The gods of ancient Egypt held little sway over the modern world, but their power was still felt in the artifacts left untouched for centuries in the ruins of the ancient lands. Some things were best left buried and forgotten.

* * *

Author's notes:

Thank you very much d'shael, Mistress of Mordor and Leowyn11 for the reviews! I very much appreciate it.

I've completely made up the culture of the Medjai. I did a little bit of reading about some of the Bedouin tribes, but not much. What I read didn't jive well enough with what I wanted to write, so I went with inaccuracy. I hope no one is offended.


	5. Chapter 5 Warning

Flight of Souls 

**Chapter 5 - Warning**

"My lord," Ardeth began formally, after seating himself on a stool across from his grandfather. "There is a team of archeologists headed for the site at Tirza. "

Lord Asim looked back at him, his face inscrutable. "What is your plan, Ardeth?"

"I will gather the men and ride out. At first we will merely watch. If we are fortunate, the team will not find anything of interest and will deem the site unsuitable for excavation. If so, we need do nothing. If they do decide to dig, we will warn them. If they pay us no heed, well, we'll do what we must."

Lord Asim nodded slowly. "Yes, that will be best. I will pray that they heed your warning."

"May I request your women to provide supplies for me?" Ardeth asked, a slight smile on his face. Confidently he waited for his grandfather's reply. It was not long in coming.

"When are you going to find a woman of your own, boy?" Asim said with great exasperation. "At your age, still relying on your grandfather's house for your needs!"

Ardeth grinned as he rose and headed toward the back of the tent. Moving a flap aside slightly, he called out. "A'isha?" As if in answer, a hand reached through the gap, grasped his wrist and pulled him through the flap into the back of the tent. Ardeth grinned again at the woman in front of him. No doubt she'd been listening to his conversation with his grandfather. Save for a few strands of gray in her dark hair, A'isha looked scarcely old enough to have a son of Ardeth's age. She'd been sixteen the day she'd married Ardeth's father, and Ardeth had been born a mere nine months later. If Ardeth hadn't been the image of his father, there would have been much gossip about it. Upon the death of Ahmad ibn Asim, her husband, she'd moved into Lord Asim's household, and assumed the management of it when Ardeth's grandmother had died several years ago.

A'isha glared at her only son. "So you want me to put together provisions for you, do you?"

"Yes," he replied, still grinning.

She glowered even more darkly. "When are you going to marry and relieve me of the responsibility of taking care of you?"

Ardeth was glad she'd stopped there instead of including her usual lament about grandchildren. "When I find a woman as beautiful and as fascinating as you," he declared extravagantly, taking her hand and kissing it reverently.

"Hmmmph," she snorted, taking her hand back. I'll send a boy over with your saddlebags before you go. I assume you'll be leaving today?"

"Within two hours, I hope." Ardeth replied more seriously. "If we ride hard we can be there by nightfall."

A'isha nodded. "Very well. Now get out of here! You're a grown man – far too old to be in the women's quarters!"

He didn't bother to protest that she'd been the one to pull him in there in the first place, and merely leaned forward to kiss her cheek before striding out. There was much to be done.

Just under two hours later, Ardeth and a dozen mounted Medjai warriors rode out of the encampment.

* * *

Tia sat cross-legged on her bedroll and gazed dreamily into the fire. She couldn't wait for the morning. Her job on the dig was to keep records of everything they did and everything they found. An important job, certainly, but Tia was hoping she might be allowed to do a little digging herself. Smiling she fiddled with the end of her long braid, and smoothed some of the dark blond curls that had escaped around her face. Something about the site was drawing her. She had an incredible urge to uncover the tomb, to see the mummies of the Pharaoh's' children, to wonder at the decoration considered suitable for the royal dead. Lately she'd even been dreaming about it. In these dreams there was always a young child. He stood staring at her, his eyes beseeching her to do something, but she didn't know what.

Silent as a stone and invisible in the shadows, Ardeth crouched behind an outcropping of rock and studied the archeologists. A slight frown creased his brow as he watched. Why were they all so young? Not an experienced face among them. And then there was the girl. She was far too young and pretty to be out in the middle of the desert at a supposedly secret tomb. Ardeth crouched in the darkness for nearly an hour, listening to the excited chatter of the young men. Any hope that they didn't know where they were or what was hidden here was dashed. They'd been led here deliberately and their guide planned to head back to Cairo at first light. We'll see about that, Ardeth thought savagely. He wanted to speak to that guide. Carefully he eased backward until he was fully out of sight of the campfire, then rose and walked, as silently as a cat, the two miles back to where the Medjai warriors had made camp.

* * *

On the second day, near sunset, Ardeth and the other Medjai tacked up their horses and mounted. Judicious spying on the archeologists had proved that the team was unlikely to leave on their own. The guide had in fact, slipped away several hours before dawn. Two of the Medjai warriors had gone in pursuit, but Ardeth was not confident of their success. The man had obviously known that he would be pursued. Something about this whole business was very wrong. Ardeth clicked his tongue to his mount and moved off, the remaining ten warriors following closely. Time to see if they could frighten the archeologists enough to cause them to leave.

Tia crouched near a rock face at the base of a small hill, her hand moving rapidly as her pen filled in a description of all she could see. Three members of the team were carefully removing dirt from what appeared to be a stone slab covering an opening in the hill. Her tawny brown eyes shone as she copied down the symbols on the stone. They were losing the light rapidly and would soon have to stop for the night. She reached out and ran her hand over the rock. Soon they would be in!

She was just sketching the last of a row of hieroglyphics when a blood-curdling cry shattered the silence. She spun around, her notebook tumbling to ground. To her horror she saw that a group of Arab horsemen, all robed in black and brandishing swords had surrounded the small team. One, a tall stern man with eyes as cold and dark as the tattoos on his face, nudged his horse a few steps forward. "You are trespassing on the lands of the Bey Tribe," he stated coldly in accented English. "You must leave here at once." His eyes scanned the tense faces of the archeologists. "If you are not gone by sundown tomorrow we will return and we will....hasten your departure. To your god if not back to Cairo." His eyes flicked briefly to Tia's. "For the sake of the woman, if not yourselves, heed my words or you will die." After a moment's pause, the man barked out a command in Arabic and the riders turned their horses. In a heartbeat they were mere murky shadows in the setting sun, the sound of their horses hooves growing fainter and fainter.

* * *

Author's notes: Once again, thank you for the reviews! I'm having a good time writing this, and I very much appreciate anyone who is having a good time reading it.

Warning – Big Digression! A couple of reviewers have mentioned the horses: I don't have any firm documentation about the Arabs mostly riding mares – but it's pretty anecdotal in the local horse community where I live. The group I ride with does a lot of the medieval horse games, so the type of horses ridden by the medieval warrior is much talked about. The European knight needed a large, strong, aggressive animal that would mow down anything in its path. The Saracens needed a smaller, lighter, more agile animal that would suit the more 'hit and run' fighting style that they had. The average Arabian horse isn't particularly large (Sorry Nakhti!), but is strong, swift and very beautiful. Check out the horses in the Mummy and Mummy Returns – they got the horses right, they are Arabians. That's about the size animal you should be picturing. As far as stallions go, obviously they had them (you can't breed horses without the boys!), but a really good stallion would probably have been too valued as a stud to ride into war much. Can't risk it being hurt or killed. Take the modern Thoroughbred racehorse. The really good ones are retired to stud after their 3- year old season, because they're too valuable to risk injury on the racetrack. (The Triple Crown races are for 3-year olds.)

The modern Arab horse can pretty much do anything asked of them, but they excel at endurance competition, and are pretty much the top breed of choice for people who are into that. Centuries of breeding for long desert treks. (The mustang is also a good choice for endurance – anyone see Hidalgo?) :)


	6. Chapter 6 Warning Ignored

Flight of Souls

Chapter 6 – Warning Ignored

Revised

"They looked pretty serious to me!" Steve Richter, one of the archeologists argued.

"Look," soothed Ethan Lancing, "this is exactly what the museum curator said would happen. He said a bunch of Arabs would ride up, threaten us with death and dismemberment and leave. He also said they wouldn't dare to anything to us – it would be too embarrassing to the government to have foreign scientists murdered! It's just a bluff, don't worry about it."

"So what happens when they come back tomorrow?"

"They won't. They'll keep an eye on us, probably, but there isn't really much they can do if we don't leave of our own free will."

"I don't know," confessed Tia. "It seems pretty creepy to think that these men have been watching us."

"Well that, sweetheart, is probably just because they want to catch a glimpse of you in your knickers."

Tia glared at Ethan, ignoring the strangled chuckles from the rest of the team.

* * *

Ardeth cursed under his breath. He'd come back to listen, figuring that the men would discuss the warriors' visit, and he would have some idea of what they meant to do. It looked like they were going to have to k ill them all. Damnation. Ardeth closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He hated the thought of killing men who'd been deliberately misled, which it appeared these men had been.

So the curator had told them that the Medjai's visit would be a bluff, had he? Grimly Ardeth realized he had no choice. He could not allow them to continue to dig, and he apparently wouldn't be able to frighten them into leaving.

Some years ago Imhotep had risen for the first time. He and the man who had then been curator of the Cairo museum, had explained the reasons for their actions to Rick O'Connell, Jonathan & Evelyn Carnahan, and the American's who'd found the Book of the Dead. The group had asked if it was right to kill innocents to prevent Imhotep from being resurrected. Dr. Bey and Ardeth had answered in unison. YES. Dr. Bey, a cousin of Ardeth's, had been killed shortly thereafter as a direct result of Imhotep's rising. Ardeth thought of his kinsman. He owed it to him, as well as the other people who'd died as a result of Imhotep's evil to do his duty this time, even if it meant killing these young American men.

* * *

Sir Randolph Varne sat consuming a hearty breakfast in his luxurious Cairo flat. He was pleased with himself. With a minimum of fuss he'd arranged to rid his son Robert of that unsuitable girl. Those odd golden eyes! It had only taken him one glance to see who she was, or rather, who she'd been. He snorted. A poor university professor's daughter was scarcely a match for the son of Sir Randolph Varne, even without considering the past. No, it was best this way. He'd strong-armed Tierney into sending an exhibition to the Tirza site, and to give Tia DeWitt a place on that team. It amused him to send Tia to that particular place. And the Medjai would take care of everything. They always had. They always would. The thought that he'd sent six men to their deaths along with the girl didn't trouble him at all.

* * *

The whole team was jumpy the next day. Tia found herself scanning the area again and again, looking nervously for any sign of the riders. Even Ethan, who was the most vehement proponent of staying, looked jittery. They made very little progress on the dig. Still, the day dragged on and on, with nothing noteworthy happening. As the sun sank lower and lower on the horizon, Tia gave up on the notes she was taking and went to start some water boiling. A soothing cup of tea was what she needed.

She had just started to steep the leaves when once again she heard the shouts of the mounted warriors. As she watched in horror, one leaned out almost casually, and swung his sword at Steve Richter. A moment later, Steve's limp body fell beneath the hooves of the horse, which continued to gallop into the archeologist's camp. Terror stricken, she leaped to her feet and started to run, hearing pounding hoof beats close behind her. She hadn't gone more than twenty feet when a hard hand suddenly grasped her upper arm and lifted her into the air. She was hauled face down across the saddle of the galloping horse with a jolt that knocked the wind out of her. A hand came down hard on her back and pinned her there. The cold voice she'd heard the previous day spoke again. "Be still if you want to live."

Gasping for breath, Tia couldn't have moved if she'd wanted to. The horse turned and headed back toward the camp. The man called out something in Arabic and the horse slowed to a walk and stopped. She pushed at the side of the horse in an attempt to relieve the discomfort of the pommel of the saddle lodged in her stomach, but the man's hand came down on her back again and she subsided. She could see nothing but the side and legs of the black horse. She could hear nothing but the voices of the Arabs speaking to each other. Were the others dead? Surely they hadn't killed them all!

Ardeth scanned the small area, counting the bodies. Yes, there were six. He'd rescued the girl on impulse, hating the thought of killing a woman. He wondered a bit ruefully if it had been a mistake. Well, mistake or not, he could hardly kill her now in cold blood.

"Salim!" Ardeth called, "take a few men and round up the team's horses. If they have no distinguishing features, bring them along with us. We'll come back in the morning to bury the bodies and cover the dig site. Best to do it in daylight so we can be sure there will be no trace." Receiving a nod of assent, Ardeth nudged his horse into a canter and rode to the Medjai's temporary camp.

As the horse sped up, Tia again tried to ease the pain in her midsection by shifting her weight. This time her captor hooked his hand in the waistband of her trousers and yanked her toward him, further onto his lap. "Be still," he ordered. "It is only a little further." Now that the hard saddle pommel was no longer sticking into her stomach it wasn't so bad. Unfortunately, the easing of the physical discomfort only increased her mental anxiety. What would become of her? She was increasingly aware of the indignity and vulnerability of her position, face down in this man's lap. She hadn't assumed this position since the last time her father had spanked her as a child, and as a grown woman she found it even more distressing.

Ardeth rode into the small camp and stopped. Taking the woman's arm again, he lifted her off his lap and set her on the ground. Her feet gave out from under her and she collapsed in a heap next to the horse. He looked down at her. "Do not bother to run. I can catch you before you go ten paces."

Tia sat on the ground and watched wide eyed as the tall Arab dismounted. "What will you do with me?" she managed to gasp.

Ardeth flicked a glance in her direction and began to strip the tack off Midnight Song. "I am not entirely sure. I hadn't intended to take captives."

"You killed everyone else?"

Ardeth looked at her again. "Yes."

"But why?"

Ardeth placed the saddle on the ground then draped the bridle over it. "Some things need to stay buried."

"You killed six people in so that we wouldn't dig anything up? Are you insane?"

"Insane?" Ardeth finished with the mare and gave her an affectionate slap on the shoulder as she moved away a few steps to graze on the scraggly grass. "No, just cautious."

"Cautious!" Tia's voice had a slightly wild edge to it. "Dear God! That's an excuse for murder? Do you take such great pleasure in killing?"

Ardeth closed his eyes briefly then crouched on the ground a careful few feet away. He fervently hoped she would not become hysterical. While he would not argue that any woman who had witnessed her companions being killed then had been carried off herself by their killer would have reason to be overcome, it still did not mean he wished to deal with it. "Were any of those men special to you?" Ardeth asked as calmly as he was able.

"Special?" Tia asked, disconcerted.

"I see you are not wearing a wedding ring," Ardeth said, "so I assume that none were your husband."

Flustered, Tia replied, "No, of course not."

Ardeth leaned slightly closer. "I am sorry for those men's deaths. I take no pleasure in killing men whose only crimes are ignorance and arrogance, and as I am beginning to suspect, were lured there on purpose."

"What do you mean?"

"One of your friends was told by the museum curator in Cairo that we would appear, but our threats were merely bluffs. Is that not so?"

Tia looked startled. "Why yes, how do you know?"

Ardeth raised his brow. "I was about fifteen feet away from your fire listening. Very creepy, as you say?" Tia flushed and said nothing. "The curator of the museum in Cairo knows precisely where not to send archeologists, and he also knows that the Medjai warriors do not bluff." After a moment of silence he spoke again. I am Lord Ardeth ibn Ahmad ibn Asim, War Commander of the Bey Tribe of the Medjai. Those outside the tribe often know me as Ardeth Bey. May I know your name?"

Tia bit her lip. "Tia DeWitt. May I ask again, Lord Ardeth, what is to become of me?"

Ardeth got to his feet. "I am the War Commander, Miss DeWitt, not the leader of the Tribe. My grandfather, Lord Asim will decide your fate. I must speak with my men. Do not attempt to leave this camp area. You will be watched constantly, and if you attempt to escape, you will be brought swiftly back." With a slight nod, Ardeth strode off in the direction of the other Medjai warriors, leaving Tia alone.


	7. Chapter 7 Pharaoh

Flight of Souls 

**Chapter 7 – The Pharaoh**

Sir Randolph Varne strolled quietly through the darkened museum. It was after hours, and he had the place to himself. As a patron of the museum, he had a set of keys. Idly he scanned the displays. The ones in this room were from the Ptolomaic period - Cleopatra and that ilk. He sniffed disdainfully and wandered toward another room. Here were the artifacts he was more familiar with, the ones from the 18th and 19th dynasties.

He paused near a display of wall paintings from a tomb in the Valley of Kings. Many of the Royal mummies, including Seti I, Ramses II and III, and Tuthmosis I, II and III had been removed from their tombs during the 21st dynasty and hidden away because of rampant tomb robberies. They'd been stripped off all valuable objects, even including the gold leaf on the sarcophaguses. This cache of mummies had been discovered in the 1880's. A second cache of Royal mummies, including Amenhotep II and III, Ramses IV, V, and VI, Seti II and Merneptah was discovered in 1898. The mummies from both caches were now in the temple of Deir el-Bahri, across the Nile from the Great Temple of Amun at Karnak. Sir Randolph's lips tightened at the thought. He understood the reasons for the removal of the mummies, but it didn't mean he liked it at all. Certainly the tomb of Ramses II had suffered extensive flood damage over the many, many years since the great Pharaoh had been laid to rest. A grave error in judgment, Sir Randolph thought, placing the tomb in an area prone to flooding.

Sir Randolph moved down the hall a few steps to a large glass case containing various items such as jewelry, small statuary and other funeral effects. Taking one of the keys from his key ring, he unlocked the case. Reaching in, he carefully lifted a beautiful pectoral collar from its stand. Reverently he placed it around his own shoulders, adjusting it so that it lay perfectly, stroking the center engraving of the god Osiris, surrounded by lapis and carnelian stones. The imperfect reflection in the open side of the glass case may have shone an incongruous sight of a man wearing a conservative business suit and tie topped with elaborate ancient Egyptian jewelry. What Sir Randolph saw was the reflection of a mighty king, resplendent in a white linen robe, jeweled armbands and the majestic blue and gold crown of Pharaoh. He smiled slightly at the sight. Ramses II, mighty Pharaoh. Ramses the Great.

* * *

It had been true, Tia mused ruefully. Even while no one had seemed to pay attention to her, she'd felt the eyes on her back. Her stern-faced captor had handed her a blanket and gestured to a place by the fire, then had spread out his own blanket barely two feet away. Every time she'd stirred in the night, she'd seen the sheen of dark eyes watching. When she'd finally fallen asleep, it had seemed no more than a few moments later that she'd been shaken awake.

"It's dawn, Miss DeWitt." Ardeth said briefly, as she blinked and looked blearily around at the camp. The warriors were shaking out blankets and readying their horses. "It is time to go."

"Where are we going?" Tia asked, rising unsteadily and running a hand over her hair.

"To the Bey encampment," he answered, taking her blanket and folding it with his own. "I must take you to Lord Asim."

Tia looked up as six of the men rode off toward the dig site. "Where are they going?"

"To cover up what you and your friends uncovered," Ardeth replied, "and to bury your companions."

Tia fought back the image of Steve falling beneath the hooves of the black horse. "Why did you have to kill them?"

"Would you have left if we'd merely threatened you again?"

Tia looked at the ground. She knew the answer to that. "But to kill them...."

"It was my duty, Miss DeWitt," he replied unemotionally. He began saddling his mare. Tia watched dully as he swiftly arranged the tack.

"Duty," she repeated. "Is that all?"

He smiled slightly as he made a final adjustment to the saddle. "Isn't that enough?" Without waiting for a reply, he stepped forward, grasped Tia around the waist and swung her into the saddle. She scarcely had time to gasp in surprise before he swung up behind her. Ardeth reached around the woman to pick up the reins with his left hand. His right arm wrapped around the Tia's waist and held her against him. After a quick glance around the camp to be sure the other warriors were mounted and ready to go, Ardeth pressed his legs gently against Midnight Song's sides and urged her into a ground-eating canter. There was a long way to go.

The trip back to the Bey encampment seemed endless to Tia. While sitting upright on the horse was a definite improvement over lying face down across the saddle, the nearness of the Medjai warrior was more than a little daunting. With one arm he held her firmly against his body. She could feel his breath against her hair, feel the muscles of his strong thighs against her own as he guided the horse. She could smell him – leather, sweat and horse. Not unpleasant, but disturbingly masculine. This man was a killer, she reminded herself severely. He was a backward tribesman with little or no knowledge or appreciation of the modern world.

Ardeth too, was finding the journey a trial. As Midnight Song was unaccustomed to carrying this much extra weight, he kept her pace to a steady lope so as to avoid exhausting her. It would be easier, he thought with annoyance, if the woman was not quite so attractive. This morning was the first time he'd seen her in the full light of day, and he'd been struck by the unusual color of her eyes. They were a light, tawny brown, nearly gold. Cat's eyes, he thought. It had been several months since he'd been with a woman, and holding such a young and pretty one this closely was testing his self-control. He could feel her ribs rise and fall beneath his hand as she breathed, felt her shoulders rub against his chest as they moved in unison to the rhythm of the horse's gait. Her hair smelled faintly of some floral perfume. He gritted his teeth and squeezed Midnight Song's sides to coax her into a faster gait, and tried to ignore the feeling of Tia's thighs pressed up against his.


	8. Chapter 8 The Bey Encampment

Flight of Souls 

**Chapter 8 – The Bey Encampment**

At long last the small band of warriors pulled up in front of Lord Asim's tent. Tia looked uncertainly at the cluster of people watching them. All seemed to be staring at her. Flustered, she dropped her eyes.

Ardeth swung off the black mare and looped the reins over his arm before reaching up to grasp Tia's waist. As he lowered her to the ground he murmured, "Keep your eyes down. Say nothing." Ardeth turned to a boy standing nearby, and handed him Midnight Song's reins with a few Arabic words. As the boy led the horse away, Ardeth gripped Tia's upper arm and ushered her into the tent.

"Ardeth," the deep voice of Asim ibn Abdullah said in Arabic, "why have you brought this woman here?"

Ardeth moved forward. "We have been betrayed, my lord." Turning to Tia he whispered in English, "Sit. Keep your eyes down and do not speak until spoken to."

Tia sank down onto the soft carpet that covered the ground and kept her eyes fixed on her hands clenched on her knees. She could hear Ardeth and the older man conversing in Arabic, joined occasionally by the voices of the other men who had accompanied them back to the encampment. She could understand the occasional word or phrase, but not much. Suddenly hearing the rich voice of the old man speaking in English was a jolt.

"Woman, look at me."

Slowly, Tia raised her eyes to the old man. Like the other men, he had tattoos across his brow and his cheekbones, although his were partially obscured by the creases in his weathered face. He must have once been a large and powerful looking man, much like his grandson, but age and illness had reduced him to a gaunt, stooped figure. He should have looked foolish. Instead, he radiated confidence and presence.

Lord Asim raised his brows. "A woman with the eyes of a cat. What is your name?"

"Tia DeWitt, my lord."

"What were you doing in the desert so far from Cairo?"

Tia swallowed. "I was the clerk of an archeologist group."

"Why were you in that particular spot?"

"We were given a guide, who told us of an undiscovered tomb, said to be the resting place of two of Seti I's children."

"Were you told which children?"

"No, my lord."

Asim sat back and regarded Tia for a moment. "Where did you find this guide?"

Tia frowned. "I hardly know. Dr. Tierney, the curator of the museum in Cairo, put the group together. He provided the guide."

"What did he tell you about us?" Asim's voice grew dry.

"Tia glanced at his face uncertainly. "He told us that a local tribe would likely put in an appearance and try to frighten us away. He said that it would be mere pretence, that the men would not really dare to harm us." Lord Asim's face darkened like a thundercloud. Tia went on. "I beg that you believe, my lord, that we would not have come here if we had known the truth."

Asim's face was grim. It was obvious he was furious. Turning from Tia, he began speaking to Ardeth in Arabic. "You are correct. That pig of a museum curator sent them to Tirza deliberately. You must leave for Cairo in the morning, Ardeth. You must find out why Tierney did this."

"Very well, Grandfather," Ardeth replied evenly. "I will not fail you." He flicked a glance at Tia. "What of the girl?"

An amused look came into Asim's eyes. "You chose to spare her, Ardeth. She is now your responsibility. Certainly you have need of a woman." The amusement faded. "We cannot allow her to go free. She knows where the Tirza tomb is and she witnessed our killing of her countrymen. If she chose to go to the authorities in Cairo, or even in America, it could create more difficulties than we can deal with at present. She must stay here, and she is better off with you than with any other of the men. You, at least, can talk to her." The sly amusement came back into Asim's face. "Do not tell me it would be a hardship, Ardeth. If I were younger, I might take her myself."

"I am traveling to Cairo in the morning," Ardeth pointed out. "I cannot leave her alone while I am gone. She doesn't know our ways or our language."

Asim shrugged. "Your mother will look after her while you are gone." He grinned lasciviously. "Though I am sure you will prefer to keep her with you tonight." The glare Ardeth sent his way merely made his grin wider. "Go rest, Ardeth. You will be gone some days I fear. I will have A'isha put together supplies for you. She will bring you over some dinner as well."

Tia knelt quietly while the men talked, not really daring to move. At first Lord Asim seemed angry, but now he seemed amused. She hoped that was a good sign. She started when Ardeth said her name, and jerked her head up to look at him. "Tia, come with me," he repeated. Nervously, she got to her feet, glancing at Lord Asim, who merely nodded at her. Ardeth took her arm and ushered her from the tent, and then led her into another one several feet away.


	9. Chapter 9 You Belong to Me

Flight of Souls 

**Chapter 9 – You Belong to Me**

"Sit down if you like," Ardeth said, releasing her arm. He reached up and pulled off his head coverings, tossing them aside, then ran his fingers though his hair. He then sat down on a low chair in front of an unlit charcoal brazier. Tia lowered herself cautiously to sit on a stool near the brazier. The tent was considerably smaller than Lord Asim's and not as lavishly furnished. Even so, the ground was covered with gorgeous rugs and the chair and stools were beautifully carved wood. A curtain was looped back to show a sleeping area in the back, with a bed platform heaped with blankets and sheepskins.

Tia looked at Ardeth, who had begun to remove his boots. "Did Lord Asim tell you what is to become of me?"

"Yes," Ardeth replied, not looking up. He pulled off the second boot. "He gave you to me."

"I beg your pardon?" Tia asked. "What do you mean by that?"

Ardeth sighed. "We cannot release you, Tia. And since you must stay here, you must live in the household of a man who can look after you. My grandfather gave you to me. You are my responsibility from this time onward."

Tia looked at him, her anxiety growing. "What exactly does that mean?"

He shrugged. "It means that I protect and provide for you. In return, you are expected to fulfill all the duties a man might expect from a wife."

"A what?"

He shrugged again. "Since we are not married, the term my people use is 'concubine'."

"Concubine," she whispered disbelievingly. She raised her head to stare at him defiantly. "So this is my fate? To become your whore?"

"You confuse the terms," he said coldly. "A concubine is second only to a wife, and is honored as such. As I have no wife, you will be treated with honor and respect. A whore," he went on even more coldly, "is available to any man, any time."

"So you expect me to submit to you without the slightest protest?"

The Medjai suddenly leaned forward and grasped her chin in his hand. Holding her head steady he looked steadily at her. "It would be in your best interests to do what you can to please me," he said coldly. "What do you think will happen to you if you do not?"

"You'll kill me?" Tia said defiantly, jerking her head from his grasp.

"No." Ardeth stated. "You'll be given to another man, one who doesn't know your language. One who already thinks you a whore. Would you prefer that?"

"What do you mean, already thinks me a whore?"

The Medjai warrior looked at her for a moment without speaking. "What were you doing alone in the desert with six men?"

Tia blinked. "I was working with a group of archeologists, of course. What has that got to do with it?"

"And none were your husband, brother or any other kinsman?"

"No, why?" Tia looked confused.

"A woman alone with other men with no guardian is considered a whore, Tia. Did not you know that?"

"But, but," Tia sputtered. "I would never, I mean, none of those men..."

"I know," Ardeth said calmly, his voice no longer so cold. Tia looked at him, speechless. He continued. "I watched you. None of those men treated you possessively at all. Your sleeping place was apart from theirs. And when one tried to flirt with you," he said dryly, "you put him in his place." He shrugged. "So I know that none were your lover."

Tia's face was flaming. "I don't..., I mean I have a boyfriend in Cairo, but we've never....it's just casual, I mean...." She swallowed hard. "I've never been with a man."

"I'm pleased to hear that," Ardeth said reaching out to her again. He cupped her face with his hand, rubbing this thumb over her cheek. "Do not lie to me about this. I will know if you speak the truth."

Tia stared up at him. His hand was hard and calloused, but his touch was gentle. His hand curled around the back of her neck and pulled her a step closer to him. Alarm bells rang in Tia's mind. Oh my God, she thought frantically, he meant to have her now.

Ardeth saw the sudden flash of panic in her eyes, and his own narrowed. The woman was terrified. He allowed his hand to slip away.

A voice from just outside the tent called out something in Arabic. Without taking his eyes from Tia's he answered. With a last long look, he rose and turned toward the woman entering the tent. Taking from her the platter she carried, he set it on a low table then, to Tia's surprise, he embraced her. Speaking in Arabic, he turned the woman toward Tia. Switching to English he said, "Tia, this is my mother, Lady A'isha."

As Tia blinked in surprise, A'isha reached up and unfastened one side of her veil so that it fell from her face. She looked surprisingly youthful, her face unlined. Tia rose uncertainly and said, "I'm pleased to meet you." Immediately she felt foolish. Would Ardeth's mother understand English?

"Good evening," A'isha replied. Her accent was heavier than Ardeth's, but it was perfectly understandable. Her shrewd eyes looked Tia up and down.

"My mother knows some English." Ardeth explained. "She will help you to learn our ways, as I must travel to Cairo tomorrow."

"I will teach," agreed A'isha. "In the morning." She spoke again to Ardeth in Arabic, and then smiled at Tia before refastening her veil and pulling aside the tent flap. "Goodnight."

The interruption had diffused some of the tension that had been in the tent. Ardeth reached out and took Tia's wrist in his hand and pulled her closer to him. "My mother will show you what will be expected of you as far as women's duties. As for your duties to me...I am not one who takes pleasure in a woman's pain or fear, Tia. I ask you not to make me force you."

The color rose in Tia's cheeks again and she dropped her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid."

"Of me?' Ardeth shrugged. It was hardly surprising that she would be. "And of course," he went on, "of intimacy with a man you know nothing of."

Tia met his eyes, surprised at his understanding. "I beg that you give me some time," she raised her hands and dropped them helplessly, "to get used to the idea if nothing else."

"I understand your fear," Ardeth replied, "and I don't desire to hurt you or make you unhappy. I will not wait for long, however." He paused briefly. "I go to Cairo in the morning. I doubt I will return in less than ten days. Is that time enough, do you think?"

Tia smiled a bit nervously. "Ten days?" She bit her lip. It was as much of a concession as she was likely to get. "All right."

"Good," Ardeth said. "You will not, I hope, deny me a taste." He pulled her closer, sliding one hand down her back and the other through her hair. Lowering his head, he kissed her – first gently, and then with increasing heat, pressing her against him. Tia felt helpless. Damn the man was strong! She couldn't have broken free had she tried. And she was not sure she wanted to try.

At last Ardeth pulled back and looked down at her. Tia could clearly see the desire in his face. She could also see the strength of his self-control. He stepped back and released her. "Take the bed," he said with a quick jerk of his head toward the sleeping area. "I will sleep out here." When she didn't move immediately, he smiled wryly. "Go, before I forget myself."

* * *

When Tia woke in the morning, she was alone. Groggily she sat up and stared stupidly at a small pile of garments near the bed. Had they been there the night before? She thought not. To begin with, they weren't black. Everything Ardeth owned appeared to be black. Shaking cobwebs from her brain she reached out and picked up the top garment. It appears to be some sort of long shirt, the color of undyed cotton. She looked down distastefully at the once white shirt and tan trousers she'd donned three days ago. She'd slept in the outfit twice, and it certainly looked it. She picked up the next garment, a pair of baggy pants.

The tent flap rustled, and A'isha poked her head in. Seeing Tia awake, she entered the tent and unfastened her veil. "Good morning." She glanced at the rug in front of the brazier, which had been cleared of furniture. A blanket was neatly folded on one of the stools. Her lips twisted in amusement. Her son certainly was gallant.

Tia smiled and returned the greeting. "Good morning, Lady A'isha." She held up the clothing. "Did you leave this for me?"

A'isha nodded. "You must dress like us," she said, picking up a large rectangle of cream-colored fabric. "I show."


	10. Chapter 10 Cairo

Flight of Souls Chapter 10 - Cairo 

The journey had been long, but at last he was there. The mount Ardeth had chosen for this journey, a pretty chestnut mare named Candle Flame wearily dragged her feet as they rode quietly down a shabby back street. At a nondescript looking inn, Ardeth dismounted began unbuckling his saddlebags. An adolescent boy scurried out of the inn and reached for Flame's reins. He glanced fearfully at Ardeth's tattooed face. "Greetings, my lord," he mumbled.

Ardeth nodded curtly. "Rub her down carefully," he instructed, passing the boy a coin and slinging his saddlebags over his shoulder. "She has come a long way."

He casually strode to the front door and let himself in. The man behind the desk in the lobby gave a startled glance at Ardeth's face. Ardeth flicked a glance at him. "Tell Da'ud I am here."

"At once, my lord." The man nearly fell over himself hurrying to the door marked "Staff". You never knew about these Medjai warriors. Some of them had nasty tempers. Ardeth shot an amused look after him. Intimidating outsiders was part of the Medjai philosophy. A reputation of being cold and merciless came in handy at times.

Da'ud did take long to make an appearance. "Lord Ardeth," he exclaimed. I did not expect it would be you. I haven't seen you in Cairo in more than a year."

"Indeed you have not, my friend," Ardeth replied, extending his hand. The two men clasped forearms companionably. "I am here at least for one night, perhaps two. Your boy is looking after my horse."

Da'ud leaned over the desk, completely ignoring the clerk, and snatched a key from the rack on the wall. He handed it to Ardeth. "Come find me when you've washed," he said. "I'll have Aminah fix you something to eat."

Two hours later, Ardeth walked the streets of the city. Da'ud's inn had been a resting place for the Medjai whenever they visited Cairo for many years. While not a Medjai himself, Da'ud's grandfather had been. He also served as a source of information, collecting gossip like honey left in the sun collected flies. Still, Da'ud hadn't heard anything about Dr. Tierney, the curator of the Cairo Museum of Antiquities.

* * *

Dr. Tierney hurried through the corridors of the museum, making his last check of the evening. The museum had closed thirty minutes ago, and all the tourists had been ushered out. He looked around in satisfaction, and turned toward his office. Opening the door he went to his desk and started rifling through his papers. 

"Good evening, Dr. Tierney."

The curator started violently, and spun around clutching at his chest. At the sight of the hard faced Medjai warrior standing against the wall, his face became ashen. "Oh God," he moaned. "I was afraid of this!"

Ardeth folded his arms on his chest and leaned back against the wall, saying nothing.

"I'm sorry," Tierney sputtered. "He forced me to do it. It wasn't my idea!" Ardeth merely lifted an eyebrow. Tierney turned, if possible, even paler. "I couldn't refuse!"

"Suppose you tell me," Ardeth said slowly, "why you thought we wouldn't find out that you deliberately sent a group of archeologists to their deaths?"

Tierney collapsed into a chair. "I knew you'd find out. I told him it wouldn't work, but he didn't care!"

"Of whom are we speaking?"

"Sir Randolph Varne," Tierney moaned. "He is the biggest patron of the museum. Without his support we wouldn't have been able to meet our operating costs these past few years."

"Why did he want these men killed?" Ardeth's voice turned icy. "The Medjai do not appreciate being used for other men's dirty work."

"It wasn't the men!" Tierney gasped. "It was the girl."

Ardeth's voice sharpened. "The girl?"

"Yes, Tia DeWitt! She worked as a clerk in the museum, and Sir Randolph insisted I send her with the group. He threatened me!"

"Am I to understand," Ardeth said, his voice cold enough to freeze lava, "that you agreed to send six men to their deaths in order to kill one girl?"

"It wasn't me! It wasn't me! It was Varne!"

Ardeth stood over the cringing man and looked at him with disgust. "Tell me how to find this Sir Randolph Varne."

* * *

Sir Randolph was enjoying an aperitif before dinner when his unexpected guest was announced. "Someone to see you, sir," his quavering butler said. Ardeth brushed by the servant and moved into the room, hand on his sword hilt, his narrowed eyes taking in every detail of Sir Randolph's appearance in his flawless evening dress. 

"Ah, a Medjai!" Sir Randolph exclaimed with pleasure. "Let me see," he mused looking closely at Ardeth's facial tattoos. "The marks of Ma'at on your cheeks. Truth, yes?"

Ardeth inclined his head civilly. "That is so."

"Hmmm," Sir Randolph continued. "Your headscarf covers the tattoos on your brow, but from the marks on your hands, you must be a member of the Bey tribe. The War Commander, no doubt? Ardeth ibn Ahmed?"

Impressed despite himself, Ardeth nodded again. "You are well informed, Sir Randolph. May I assume that you also know why I am here?"

Sir Randolph smiled coldly. "I believe I can guess. Dare I hope this visit is a friendly one?" He settled himself comfortably in a leather chair.

Ardeth smiled, just as coldly as Sir Randolph had. "That depends entirely on your answers."

"This is about the exhibition to the Tirza burial site, yes?"

"One wonders how you even know of that site," Ardeth replied.

"I think you'll find I know many things," Sir Randolph countered.

"What is Tia DeWitt to you?" Ardeth asked.

Sir Randolph's voice became cutting. "Did that slug of a curator tell you her name?"

"I repeat, what is Tia DeWitt to you?" Ardeth asked again.

Sir Randolph settled back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. "My fool of a son thought himself in love with the chit," he drawled.

"That is a reason to have a girl killed?" Ardeth asked incredulously.

"I choose not to be reminded of her – who she is or who she was." Sir Randolph said dismissively.

"Who she was?" Ardeth inquired.

Sir Randolph laughed. "You haven't the slightest idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. A proud warrior," he mocked, "unable to fathom the forces that go on around you."

Ardeth's lips tightened. "I know that you used me and my people to perform your private executions. We do not appreciate being used in such a way." He laid his hand suggestively on his sword hilt. "I should kill you now."

Sir Randolph laughed again. "You cannot." He laughed again as Ardeth pulled his sword from its sheath. Two security guards appeared with guns trained on the tall Arab. Ardeth froze, his eyes flicking from one to the other. "You cannot," Sir Randolph repeated, rising from his chair and approaching Ardeth. "And not just because of my guards. You cannot kill me because of what you are."

* * *

Author's Note: I found the meaning of the hieroglyphic tattoos on a website, that THIS site apparently won't allow me to put into the story. It's a great site about the Mummy movies. Wish I could give you the url! As far as the comment about the marks on Ardeth's hands referring to the Bey Tribe - it occured to me that Rick O'Connell in Mummy Returns had the "sacred mark" on his right forearm that identified him as a Medjai. Ardeth didn't seem to have this mark. Since there are 12 tribes of Medjai, perhaps each tribe had a different identifying tatoo. Probably it would be on the arm or the hand so that it would be easy to show as identification. Since Ardeth has a repeating point tatoo on his hand, I arbitrarily made that the Bey tribal mark. Rick O'Connell's mark would be from a different Medjai tribe. (Stay tuned, that comes up in another chapter).

Ma'at, by the way, is the Egyptian goddess of Truth.

Thank you for the review, Nakhti!


	11. Chapter 11 Pharaoh's Commands

Flight of Souls

Chapter 11 – Pharaoh's Commands

Ardeth's lips tightened. "I know that you used me and my people to perform your private executions. We do not appreciate being used in such a way." He laid his hand suggestively on his sword hilt. "I should kill you now."

Sir Randolph laughed again. "You cannot." He laughed again as Ardeth pulled his sword from its sheath. Two security guards appeared with guns trained on the tall Arab. Ardeth froze, his eyes flicking from one to the other. "You cannot," Sir Randolph repeated, rising from his chair and approaching Ardeth. "And not just because of my guards. You cannot kill me because of what you are." He thrust his hand in front of Ardeth's face. "Do you see this?"

Ardeth looked at the ostentatious gold ring on the man's finger. It bore the cartouche of Ramses II. "I see the personal emblem of a long dead Pharaoh." Ardeth replied. "What should I see?"

"Long dead?" Sir Randolph replied. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. Do you believe in reincarnation, Lord Ardeth?"

Ardeth stared. In front of his eyes, Sir Randolph almost seemed to change, just for a moment. His eyes seemed to elongate, rimmed with black kohl, the neatly cut goatee seemed to jut aggressively out. The double crown of Egypt seemed to waver in from of Ardeth's eyes, with uraeus, the spitting cobra extended.

Ardeth blinked and shook his head slightly and once again, Sir Randolph, stood before him in a dinner jacket and tie. Sir Randolph smiled, coldly. "You cannot disobey me, Medjai," he said slowly. "It is against everything you know. You've been bred to absolute obedience to Pharaoh."

Ardeth gritted his teeth and tried to control the clenching in his stomach. "There has been no Pharaoh in Egypt since Cleopatra took her own life. I owe no obedience to you."

"Think again, Medjai," Sir Randolph replied. "Did you kill the girl?"

Ardeth opened his mouth to say that he had, but found himself saying "No".

Sir Randolph smirked. "You see? You cannot even lie to me."

Ardeth shrugged. "It seemed a waste to kill her. I have....other uses for her." He permitted a slight leer to appear on his face.

Sir Randolph looked amused. "I'm sure you do. However, I want her disposed of. Take care of it and report back to me."

"Why do you care? She will never return to Cairo. Even if she did, I cannot imagine your son would want her now that she is no longer...untouched."

"I dislike loose ends, Medjai."

"I'm not done with her yet," Ardeth said coldly.

"Then finish with her in a hurry. I expect you back here within two weeks."

Ardeth slammed his sword back into its sheath, spun on his heel and stalked out the door.

Sir Randolph eyed the place where Ardeth had stood speculatively for several minutes. Then he turned to his guards. "When he is away from me he will likely be able to resist the compulsion to obey. Follow him. When he leaves the city, kill him and leave no trace."

One of the guards looked puzzled. "Should we not follow him back to wherever he has the girl?"

"Imbecile," Sir Randolph sneered. "He is a War Commander of the Medjai. You will never be able to trail him all the way to his tribe's encampment without his knowledge. You will be fortunate if you are able to follow him for more than a league into the desert."

* * *

Ardeth stalked through the streets of Cairo, his mind in turmoil. Fool! Idiot! He berated himself. Why had he been unable to lie? He stopped and leaned against the side of a building, breathing hard. In that one instant it almost seemed as though an ancient Pharaoh was standing before him. Reincarnation? Could it really be? He knew someone who knew a great deal about that. No doubt about it, he needed some help. Ardeth began walking again. But were they in Egypt? Tierney would be able to tell him what he needed to know.

Two hours later, Ardeth, armed with the information he'd extracted from Dr. Tierney, retrieved his horse and left the city.

* * *

Ardeth kept Candle Flame to an easy trot as they followed the Nile southward. He regretted making her continue the journey without at least one night's rest, but he felt unable to wait. There were a few hours of daylight left.

Preoccupied as he was, Ardeth did not fail to notice the two horsemen following behind him. There were frequent travelers on this road, however, horses, camels and automobiles. Still, Ardeth stayed aware of them. When he stopped in a village along the road to water his mare, he noted that the two horsemen continued on. They had their headscarves pulled over their faces, hiding their features. Not altogether unusual, many men traveled this way to keep sand and dust from their faces. Of course there wasn't much wind just at the moment, and the dust wasn't too bad. Ardeth remounted with a slight frown. He scanned the road ahead of him. No sign of the two travelers. Ardeth pushed Flame back into a trot. He'd stay alert.

It happened two miles down the road. Without warning, a sudden shot rang out. Flame stumbled and went to her knees, pitching Ardeth over her head. Instinctively he rolled, pulling out his sword as he came back to his feet. He heard another shot, and small puff of dust appeared near his feet to show where the bullet had hit the ground. Ardeth sprinted for the cover of a rock outcropping, gaining safety just as another bullet hit the rock near his face.

Cautiously he crept along the rock face, stepping carefully to avoid making any noise. He could hear the two men scuffing stones as they moved toward him. A small alcove appeared in the rock, and he slipped inside, listening hard.

"Where the hell is he?" hissed a voice.

"Shut up, he'll hear you," hissed another.

Ardeth allowed himself a tight-lipped smile. Amateurs! This would be easier than he'd thought. When he heard the two men pass the alcove he eased out from behind the stone and stepped out behind the two men. The first died at once as the sword cut down between his neck and shoulder. Ardeth had his sword back into position by the time the second had turned around. Quickly he slapped the gun from the man's hand and flicked the sword across the man's throat.

Ardeth took a deep breath, then wiped his blade on one of the fallen men's clothing and sheathed it. Quickly he ripped the head cloths away and was unsurprised to see Sir Randolph's guards lying before him. He'd thought as much. He pocketed their guns, and dragged the bodies into the alcove.

Absently massaging the shoulder that had taken the brunt of his sudden tumble off his mare, he turned back toward her. Candle Flame was lying in the road, her breathing labored. Ardeth checked her over, but knew there was nothing he could do for her save ease her pain. He stroked her head for a moment, then placed one of the guns against her forehead and carefully pulled the trigger. He sat for a moment, in mingled anger and sorrow, and then began to remove saddle and bridle.

The ambushers' horses were tethered a short distance away. Choosing the better of the two, a dark gray gelding, he replaced the guard's saddle with his own. He then stripped all the tack from the second horse and set it free. It would probably find its way back to the village they'd just passed. He tossed the attacker's belongings into the alcove with the bodies. Hopefully they would remain undiscovered for a few days anyway. He turned the gelding's head southward and kicked it into a canter. The Valley of Kings was at least two days ride away.

* * *

Thank you for the reviews! It gives me a reason to keep going.


	12. Chapter 12 Home in the Desert

Flight of Souls

Chapter 12 – Home in the Desert

Tia sat cross-legged in the women's quarters of Lord Asim's tent. Her days had certainly been busy since Ardeth had left. A'isha had first shown her the enclosures of the tribe's horses. The tribe's wealth, A'isha had explained, was due to the horses. Each man had a number of horses that he raised and trained. A horse trained by the Medjai brought excellent prices in the markets of Egypt. Ardeth had more than a dozen animals, ranging from a gorgeous gray stallion to a couple of newborn foals that kept close to their mothers' flanks. Usually the women helped feed the horses, and often did some of preliminary training. Foals were handled every day to accustom them to humans. They learned to allow people to lift their feet, examine their teeth and lead them on ropes around their pens. Some of the women did more extensive training, up to and including riding. Since Ardeth had no women, A'isha often worked with his animals. Tia would now be expected to.

A'isha had also shown her the tribe's flocks of sheep, which were cared for by some of the women and the older children. These were used for their meat and their wool. They were also sold at market, and the proceeds used for items the tribe could not make themselves.

The Bey Tribe, A'isha had told her, had lived in this particular spot for many years. It was a small valley, protected by rocky hills on three sides. A spring created a small oasis. Because of the water, grazing was available for the horses and the sheep.

In the evenings, Tia usually sat for a while with Lord Asim. As he spoke the best English of the tribe, save for Ardeth, Asim felt it was his duty to tell the newcomer about the tribe and their ways. While A'isha and Tia were able to communicate fairly well, only Asim was able to explain the more complex issues. The Medjai, he told her, was originally the personal bodyguard of Pharaoh and the Royal Family. Even in the beginning it was usually a hereditary charge. Now it almost exclusively was hereditary. While it wasn't unheard of for someone of non-Medjai background to become a Medjai, it was fairly rare. When boys approached manhood they chose personal symbols that would be tattooed on their faces. Ardeth's cheek tattoos, Lord Asim explained, were the symbol of the ancient Egyptian goddess Ma'at - the goddess of Truth. His own, he said, were the symbol of heh, eternity. Medjai who lived in or near cities frequently did not tattoo their faces, but all Medjai had tattoos of some sort. Each tribe had its own symbol. The Bey tribe used a simple repeating point design on their hands. The Avet tribe used a more complex tattoo placed on the right forearm. The Dareb tribe used the symbol of a coiled cobra.

The primary duty of a Medjai was to guard certain sacred sites throughout Egypt. Often these sites had been designated by Pharaohs thousands of years ago. Sometimes the Medjai knew what in particular about the sites was sacred or must not be disturbed. Sometimes they did not. The Tirza site, Lord Asim admitted, was one that they did not know why it must be guarded. Only that it must be. The ancient curses, he went on to explain, were real and must be taken seriously. Present day Medjai tribes were predominantly Muslim, he told Tia, but they still respected the old gods. The old gods might be dead, he assured her, but their power still lingered.

After an initial feeling of apprehension, Tia soon became comfortable with the old man. He had an intelligent dry wit that was very amusing. She very much enjoyed the old stories he told, and once he realized how much she did enjoy it, his own pleasure in her company grew.

Sometimes it seemed difficult to remember that she was, in fact, a prisoner. A captive that had been given to a man as a concubine. It seemed almost as if she was being treated as a new bride, someone who needed to learn the ways and routines of the tribe, but not one that had been brought here against her will. There were certainly restrictions on her movements. She was not allowed to sleep alone in Ardeth's tent. Until he returned she slept on a pallet in A'isha's room – a small curtained alcove in the women's quarters. She was allowed to ride some of Ardeth's horses, but not alone and not too far from the camp. She'd mistakenly gone too far once, had been escorted back again by an angry A'isha along with several grim faced men. She'd been very careful ever since to stay close.

Tia's thoughts went to Ardeth. He'd been gone for several days now, and was expected to return at any time. Tia wondered how she felt about that. She'd become fairly comfortable here over the past several days, much more than she'd ever expected to be. She got along very well with Ardeth's mother and grandfather. Some of the other women were friendly, and as Tia learned more Arabic, it was easier to communicate with them. Some of the women weren't friendly at all, but that was only to be expected. She wasn't Arabic after all. In addition, Ardeth was quite a catch from what A'isha had said. No doubt some of the younger women had hopes of catching his eye.

Was she resigned to her fate? Tia wondered. Had she resigned herself to spending, if not the rest of her life at least the foreseeable future, as the concubine of a desert tribesman? She hadn't tried to escape, hadn't even really considered it. She only had a vague idea of where she was. She didn't think it would be more than a day's ride to Thebes, but she wasn't sure of that. Nor was she completely sure which direction Thebes was. In order to escape she'd have to steal a horse and enough supplies to last her in case the ride was longer than she'd thought. That was assuming that she'd be able to get away free without pursuit. Not likely, really. The Medjai were excellent trackers, and much better horsemen than she was. She'd be dragged back. All pretense of her being a guest would end and she would be a prisoner indeed. No, Tia thought. She'd probably have a better chance of eventually convincing Ardeth to let her go.

Of course, that would mean living with him for an unspecified period of time. Intimately. Tia shivered. She might be able to put him off for a little while, but not for very long. He wanted her, he'd made that clear enough. Did she want him? That was a disturbing thought. He was a murderer. He'd killed her colleagues without a qualm. Yet, she could understand his reasons. She might not agree with them, but she did understand the duty that he and all of his tribesmen had lived with for hundreds of years.

He'd spared her, probably against his better judgment. Ardeth was chivalric enough to save her life and he had a strong sense of honor. That was obvious. She could do worse, Tia thought, than to fall into the hands of someone who would probably treat her as well as he could. Could she live happily, or at least contentedly, here in the desert with him? From everything she'd learned from Lord Asim and A'isha, Ardeth was a powerful man. He was the War Commander, which meant that his word was second only to Lord Asim's. He would be leader as well when Lord Asim passed away. By the standards of the desert tribes, Ardeth was also wealthy. He was an excellent horseman, and the horses he trained sold for high prices in the towns of Egypt.

Tia enjoyed working with the horses. Feeding and caring for them, teaching the foals to trust, exercising the older mounts. Yes, the work was very satisfying. The rest of the 'women's' chores weren't too bad. She was learning to cook the way the Medjai did, though she imagined she'd get tired of eating mutton. Some of the women trusted her enough to allow her to watch their younger children while they did other chores. Tia enjoyed that – she'd always had a way with children.

What about Ardeth himself? He was, Tia admitted to herself, gorgeous. His face and physique could satisfy anyone's definition of the term. He could be cold, harsh and stern. Yet, he could also be understanding, compassionate and, well, passionate. Tia smiled ruefully to herself. It wasn't as though she had a choice over the matter. She was his to do with as he chose. She had also come to understand what he'd told her the night before he'd left. It was indeed in her best interests to please him.

* * *

Thank you tellergirl!


	13. Chapter 13 Enter the O'Connells

Flight of Souls

Chapter 13 – Enter the O'Connells

Rick O'Connell decided it was time to take a break. He sat under an awning in the shade, and picked up a jug of water. Some he tipped into his mouth. Some he poured over his head. Then he started violently as an accented voice said "O'Connell."

Rick shook his head, flinging droplets of water in all directions as his hand clapped on the gun holster at his waist. Then recognition hit and his hand dropped from the weapon. "Good God, Ardeth Bey." Rick's eyes narrowed. "No one dug Imhotep up again, did they?"

Ardeth smiled. "No."

"We're not accidentally digging up one of your sacred sites, are we?"

"No."

"Has anyone I know been kidnapped lately?"

Ardeth shook his head. "Not to my knowledge."

Rick grinned broadly. "Then I'm glad to see you." He stepped forward to clasp Ardeth's forearm. "Thirsty?" He offered the water jug.

"Thank you," Ardeth said, taking a long drink. "I have come to ask for your help." He handed the jug back.

"My help?" Rick said suspiciously, taking the jug back.

"Yours and Evie's." He smiled. "I'm glad to find you in Egypt. The curator of the museum in Cairo told me where you would be."

"Yeah, Evie always feels the need to check in. "He looked closely at Ardeth. "She's in the tomb. Let me go get her."

* * *

Rick, Evie and Ardeth were finished up as good a dinner as could be had at an excavation site. They'd spent meal discussing the O'Connell's son, Alex, who was presently in boarding school, and the current dig – which was the tomb of a well-to-do merchant from the time of Ramses II. Tomb robbers had removed anything of value, but the wall paintings and carvings remained.

"This past life experience is adding a great deal of interest to my research," Evie said. "I recall a person from my life as Nefertari, then I research him or her and try to find out what happened. In this case, I was able to find out where he was buried. It really is quite fascinating," she enthused. "From the wall paintings I can confirm things about his life that I'd known before."

"Evie," Ardeth said slowly. "Can you tell if someone else is reincarnated from the same period of time?"

She frowned at him. "I can recognize someone I knew from back then, like I recognized Anck-su-namun."

"Have you met anyone else that you knew from then?"

"Yes, actually," she replied. "I met a man about six months ago who had been a minor temple functionary. He took one look at me and went as white as a ghost. Very amusing, really." She looked at Ardeth in puzzlement. "Why do you ask?"

"I have a rather unusual story to tell."

When he'd finished, Rick and Evie were silent for a moment, looking at him speculatively. "You must think I'm mad," he said.

Rick snorted. "Ardeth, we've fought mummies side by side, and we've witnessed the resurrection of an evil Egyptian priest, not once, but twice. We've gone through Anubis warriors, magic bracelets, really big scorpions, huge freaky sandstorms, walls of water and a pyramid that sucked up an entire oasis. If you tell me you've run into a guy who believes he's a reincarnated Pharaoh who seems to have it in for an American girl, I'm not going to think you're crazy."

Evie looked at Ardeth. "I'd like to meet this Sir Randolph."

Ardeth nodded. "I'd like for you to do that. But I am uneasy about Tia's safety."

"She's at your tribe's encampment, isn't she?" Rick asked.

"Yes, but I fear he may be able to find out where that is. He would not have sent his men to kill me if he didn't think he could find her without me. It's not a well known location, but it is not possible to live in the same place for as long as my tribe has and have it be completely secret."

"Right," Rick said slowly. "Then we'll go there first."

Ardeth smiled. "Thank you, my friends."

* * *

The next day, Tia watched over a young boy while his mother was working with one of the horses. They sat on the ground near the horse pens and played a game with small sticks until the child had become tired and crawled into Tia's lap to fall asleep. A'isha saw the two of them and sat down beside Tia. There were no men in the vicinity, so they loosened their veils.

"You like children?"

Tia smiled and gently kissed the little boy's forehead. "I do, yes." It seemed oddly familiar to hold the little boy.

A'isha smiled too. "I have wanted grandchildren for a long time." She glanced sideways at Tia, and laughed at the expression on her face. "I think you have not thought of that."

Tia could feel her face turning red. "I don't...., I mean.." she sputtered.

A'isha laughed again. "You think I do not understand," she said looking at Tia shrewdly. "I met my husband the day we wed. My father chose for me." The older woman smiled at the memories. "I was afraid. And my Ahmad," she said with a meaningful look, "did not sleep on rug the first night." Tia's blush deepened until she was sure her cheeks were on fire. "We had many happy years," A'isha murmured. "He was a good man."

"But you were born to this life, weren't you?" Tia asked. "You are from a Medjai tribe?"

"Yes, Dareb tribe to the north," A'isha confirmed. "But does not matter. You see Naila?" She nodded her head toward the mother of the child in Tia's lap. "She is not Medjai. Her father is a horse trader. He sold her to Salim."

"Sold her?"

"Yes. For two fine horses." A'isha shrugged. "Naila is fourth daughter, of no value to her father. She came here as Salim's concubine. They did not wed until this one," she smiled at the sleeping child, "was born." A'isha returned to gaze to Naila, who was working with a yearling colt. "Does she seem not happy to you?"

Tia frowned. Naila was one of the more friendly of the Arab women, usually laughing and smiling. A'isha nudged Tia, and tucked her veil back around her face. "Watch."

Startled, Tia looked up to see one of the Medjai warriors riding up. She quickly fastened her own veil. The man swung off his horse near the pen where Naila was working. She gave the yearling one last stroke, and then went through the gate. Salim hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her close to him, tugging her veil down far enough to press a kiss on her lips. Naila put her arms around his neck and kissed him again.

"You see?" A'isha said. "They are happy together. Salim is a good man, and Naila a good woman." She glanced sidelong at Tia. "Ardeth is also a good man." Tia looked down at the child in her lap, grateful that her veil was now hiding her expression. A'isha got to her feet, and then stooped to ease the sleeping child from Tia's lap. Rising, she handed the boy to Salim who had come over to retrieve his son.

"Shukran," he said, easing the sleeping child onto his shoulder, and smiled at both A'isha and Tia before walking toward the tents with Naila.

Tia rose to her feet and watched them go. "My son will be good to you if you let him," A'isha said. "You can be happy here if you allow yourself." With a slight nod, she too walked away toward the tents.

* * *

Author's Notes: 'Shukran' means 'thank you' in Arabic.

Thank you tellergirl, Lometari, Nakhti and Mallie. I really appreciate the reviews!


	14. Chapter 14 Homecoming

Flight of Souls

Chapter 14 – Homecoming

Ardeth slowed his mount to a walk as they entered the Bey encampment. Behind him, Rick and Evie did the same. Evie looked apprehensively at the people staring at them. The impassive tattooed faces of the men, the veiled faces of the women. "So, Ardeth," Rick said, nudging his horse up next to Ardeth's. "Do you get a lot of strangers here?"

Ardeth smiled slightly. "No, almost never."

Rick dropped back again. "Figured that."

Ardeth stopped in front of his grandfather's tent and dismounted, Rick and Evie following suit. A veiled woman stepped out of the tent and spoke to Ardeth in Arabic. Evie knew enough Arabic to know that she was scolding him.

"Peace, Mother," Ardeth replied. "I will explain. First, where is Tia?"

A'isha glared at him. "She is with the horses."

Ardeth leaned over and kissed his mother on the cheek through her veil. "Bring my friends in to see my grandfather. I will join you in a moment." He took the reins of his friends' horses. "This is my mother, Lady A'isha. A'isha, this is Rick and Evelyn O'Connell. My friends, please go with my mother. I will fetch Tia." Leading the three horses, he walked away.

A'isha glared after him, and then turned to Rick and Evie. "Please come with me, Mr. and Mrs. O'Connell," she said in accented English.

When Ardeth approached the horse enclosures he saw Tia in a pen with a mare and foal. She was crouched next to the small bay foal and was running her hands up and down the baby's legs. The foal was looking at her intently. "There now, sweetheart," Tia crooned. "That doesn't hurt, does it? Now let me have your foot." She put her hand on the foal's right front hoof and tried to lift it. He yanked it away and danced a few steps sideways. "Come now, love, that's silly." She moved over a few feet and stroked the foal's neck, scratching the root of his mane. "Don't be silly, little boy." Her hand stroked down the baby's shoulder and down his front leg. "I'm not going to hurt you." This time she succeeded in lifting the foot a few inches. "There we go, sweetheart!" Tia set the foot down carefully and petted the baby warmly on the neck and shoulder. "Good boy!" The foal reached out and nipped playfully at the Tia's veil, then he danced off again, this time dragging the veil with him. "What are you doing, you silly boy!" Tia laughed and tried to grab for the veil, but the foal scampered around the pen, shaking his head to make the veil flap around. The bay mare looked up briefly from the fodder she was eating to see if her intervention was required. Deciding it was not, the mare resumed her meal. The foal dropped the veil and danced away, bucking and kicking.

"High spirited, that one."

Tia spun around at the sound of the voice. "Ardeth!" She nervously pushed her dark blond hair behind her ears.

He led the three horses into an empty pen and started stripping their tack. Tia picked up her veil and tried to shake the dust from it. Giving up, she draped it over her arm and exited the foal's pen, fastening the gate behind her. Ardeth handed her one of the saddles, and she placed it on the ground outside the pen. "You had a good journey, I trust," Tia said uncertainly.

"It was eventful," Ardeth admitted, checking the gray gelding's feet before leaving the pen. He reached out and cupped Tia's face with his hand. "Will you not greet me?" Leaning down, he kissed her gently on the lips.

Tia leaned toward him and kissed him back, a little hesitantly. When he raised his head, she smiled nervously. "Welcome home, my lord."

He raised his eyebrows. "Progress, I think?" Tia just blushed and turned away. Ardeth shook his head and chuckled slightly. Taking the veil from her, he shook it out again and handed it back. "Best put this on. We are awaited in my grandfather's tent."

When they entered Lord Asim's tent a few minutes later, Tia once again properly veiled, they were greeted by Lord Asim's deep voice raised in annoyance. "Why do you bring strangers here again, Ardeth?"

Ardeth bowed respectfully. "Not entirely strangers, my lord," he replied, like Asim speaking in Arabic. He gestured to Rick, who was sitting tensely on a cushion before Lord Asim. He switched to English. "Show him your tattoo."

Rick unfastened the leather band around his wrist and displayed the tattoo on his forearm. Lord Asim's eyes widened. "The Avet tribe tattoo?" His eyes narrowed again as he turned toward Ardeth. "Why does this American man wear the tattoo of a Medjai?"

"It is a very long story, my lord," Ardeth said. "Will you listen?"

"It's longer than you think Ardeth," said Evie, rising from her seat next to Rick. She walked toward Tia, who hadn't taken her eyes from Evie since she'd entered the tent. Evie reached out and pulled Tia's veil free. "Tiye?" Evie said. "Tiye, is it really you?"

Tia felt dizzy. She reached out and grasped Evie's shoulders. The face before her seemed to change slightly – the hair becoming black rather than brown, the eyes lined with kohl, a gold filet about her brow. "I know you," she said haltingly.

"Indeed you do, sister," Evie said. She turned to see everyone in the tent gaping at them.

"Sister?" Rick said with disbelief.

"Evie, you don't mean..." Ardeth's voice trailed off.

"This woman was Princess Tiye," Evie said confidently, "a daughter of Pharaoh Seti I, and my half sister."

* * *

It was long past nightfall. The candles flickering in Lord Asim's tent cast odd shadows on the face of the old man. "So," he said in English. "You tell me that this man," he indicated Rick," is the man who killed the Scorpion King two years ago."

"Yes, grandfather," Ardeth confirmed. "He, like us all, is a descendant of the Medjai. The Avet tribe in particular."

"The man you met in Cairo, who forced Dr. Tierney to send out those archeologists, claimed to be Ramses II?"

"He did," confirmed Ardeth.

"And this woman," he indicated Evie, "is the reincarnation of Queen Nefertari?"

Evie nodded.

"And this woman," he gestured toward Tia, "is the reincarnation of another of Seti I's daughters?"

Evie answered, "Yes, sir, I believe she is." Turning to Tia she asked, "What do you remember?"

Tia shrugged. "Very little really. I have dreams sometimes of myself living in ancient Egypt. I remember people. An older man - the King, I think. You say he was my father? I remember two other men, both of whom I feared. I remember you," she said to Evie. "You were always kind to me. There was another woman, very beautiful, but not always kind. Then there was a child, a small boy."

Evie exchanged glances with Rick. "I think I can explain some of that." She began her story. As she spoke, the listeners glanced around at each other. The story was fantastic. Tia spoke up from time to time, to clarify a point, almost as if she'd only just remembered. "When Ramses returned to Thebes, I was furious with him," Evie said. "I couldn't believe he'd had you executed." She bit her lips. "I don't know if I could have convinced him otherwise," she confessed, "but I never had the opportunity to try. You were dead by the time I'd heard of it. I was able to convince him to bury you properly." Evie glanced uncertainly at Ardeth and Lord Asim. "The tomb at Tirza, that's your tomb, Tia. Yours and Horemheb's."

There was silence in the tent for several minutes. Tia sat quietly, tears streaming down her cheeks. Then she spoke, "So he had me killed in ancient times, and he tried to have me killed in this time. Why?"

Evie looked at Rick. "I think we're going to have to find out."


	15. Chapter 15 First Night

Flight of Souls

Chapter 15 – First Night

There had been no more discussion. A'isha showed Rick and Evie to a place for them to sleep, and Ardeth had ushered Tia back to his own tent. Tia felt worn out. The realization of her past life had been both a shock and a relief. So many things now made sense. Questions that had bothered her for most of her life now had answers. She was in danger, though. A man from her past wanted to kill her, for no good reason as far as Tia could see. What would happen if he found out where she was?

Ardeth removed his robes and dropped them negligently on a chest. Clad only in a pair of loose pants, he sat next to Tia on the bed. "Are you all right?"

Tia smiled hesitantly. "I'm frightened."

"Of Sir Randolph?" Ardeth asked. "Of me?"

"Both, I think," Tia admitted.

He tilted her chin up so that their eyes met. "You needn't be afraid of me. And I will protect you from Sir Randolph."

In the flickering light of the candle near the bed, Tia could see the resolution in his eyes. "I believe you."

"Are you afraid of this?" he asked, unfastening the sash around her waist and dropping it to the floor. Next he unfastened the sleeveless over tunic and slipped it off her shoulders. "Relax," he said softly, his hands caressing the soft skin of her neck. "I'm not going to hurt you." He gathered her close to him, pressing her face into the curve of his shoulder. "Shhhh," he murmured, massaging her back through the thin fabric of her under tunic. "Just relax."

Tia breathed in the scent of his body and tried to still the way her body was trembling. By concentrating on the comforting warmth of his hands on her back, little by little her tension eased. Ardeth felt the muscles in her back loosen and her body become more pliant. His hands began to caress rather than massage. Gently he tipped her head back and covered her mouth with his.

Tia closed her eyes. His hands were now easing beneath the tunic she wore, stroking her back and coming around to explore her belly, her shoulders, her breasts. His mouth was more urgent now, parting her lips to deepen his kiss, then trailing down her neck. Impatiently he pulled the tunic over her head and pressed her down on the bed. A quick tug loosened the drawstring of her pants.

Ardeth took a deep breath and summoned up the last vestiges of his self control to keep from lowering himself on her and giving in to his own urgent need. If this was indeed her first time she deserved better than that. Instead he continued to stroke and kiss until she was once again relaxed.

Memories floated in Tia's head. More than three thousand years ago another man not of her choosing had taken Tia, or rather Tiye, to bed. The hands that had roamed her body then had been harsh and uncaring. The hands that were on her body now were gentle. Strangled into submission, Princess Tiye had been able to do nothing except grit her teeth and endure. Certainly she'd had no desire to respond to her rapist. Tia DeWitt did have a choice. While she was sure there was no stopping Ardeth now, she could choose her response. She could choose to turn her head to the side and wait for him to be done, or she could respond to the feelings of desire awakening in her body. Decision made, Tia ran her hands up his muscular arms and over his broad shoulders. When he bent over her she curled one hand around his neck and pulled his mouth down to hers.

* * *

Later, Tia lay pressed close to Ardeth's side, her head pillowed on his chest, his arm around her shoulders. She listened to the steady beating of his heart. He'd been as good as his word – he hadn't hurt her. His breathing was deep and slow. He'd fallen asleep almost immediately after rolling over and pulling her against him. Tia smiled slightly and snuggled close, closing her own eyes.

* * *

Ardeth stepped out of his tent shortly after dawn. He'd left Tia fast asleep. He'd been tempted to wake her, but decided against it. She'd been sleeping so soundly he didn't have the heart. He'd been both surprised and pleased by her response to him last night. He just wished he knew if it had been genuine desire, or merely guile – a wish to please him – that had made her cling to him while they'd made love. He shrugged slightly. It didn't matter, he supposed. It was a start. And she'd been honest with him about her past experience. He now knew for sure that she'd never been with a man until last night.

As he walked toward the horse enclosures he saw Rick O'Connell leaning against a fence. Ardeth nodded to him. "Good morning."

"Morning," Rick replied. He rubbed the side of his nose and looked at the ground, obviously uncomfortable. Ardeth stopped and looked at him, eyebrow raised. "Oh hell," Rick muttered. "Evie has a bee in her bonnet and she made me promise to talk to you about it this morning."

Ardeth waited a moment in the resulting silence, and then said, "Yes?"

Rick groaned and rubbed the back of his neck. "It's about Tia."

"What about her?"

"Well, Evie is afraid that Tia's being coerced into something against her will."

Ardeth's lips tightened. "She's afraid that I'm going to mistreat Tia? I'm sorry Evelyn thinks so little of me."

Rick groaned again and looked away. He stared at the horizon for a few moments then looked back. "Look, Ardeth, I understand this a lot better than she does. Evie was pretty sheltered before our marriage, and even since then she hasn't come much into contact with this sort of situation. And if we're talking about her past life, she remembers an arranged marriage with a man she neither liked nor respected. It's not that she thinks you're going to mistreat Tia, Ardeth. It's that she's afraid Tia will end up living the rest of her life as a servant - passed from man to man – looked down upon because she isn't Arabic. She considers Tia her sister, and doesn't want that to happen to her." Rick paused and then spoke again. "As I understand how the system works in the desert tribes, you keep concubines until you're tired of them, right?"

"Usually."

"If and when that happens, will you promise to send Tia to Evie and me in England?"

Ardeth looked at Rick. "I'm surprised you haven't asked me to give her to you now."

Rick grimaced. "Evie wanted me to, but I refused."

Ardeth raised his brows again. "How did she take that?"

"Not well."

Ardeth sighed and leaned against the fence. "I will not give her up now, O'Connell. But you need not worry that her life will be a misery. If she and I come to a parting of ways, I will send her to England if she wishes it. You have my word."

"Thank you, Ardeth. And I'm sorry to be interfering with your personal life."

"I understand your concern. I will speak to Evie myself."

"Just don't do it in public. I don't think your men would appreciate their War Commander being shrieked at by a woman."

Ardeth grinned. "I'll keep that in mind." He gestured toward the horses. "Will you ride with me? I'm behind in my training."

Rick shrugged. "Sure."

"Good." Ardeth indicated a dark liver chestnut gelding with a crooked white blaze. "Take him. He's a three year old. I'll be taking him to the horse market soon. You can tell me what you think of him."

* * *

Thank you Lometari, tellergirl, Mommints, eris and lilylynn. I'm glad you're enjoying the story!


	16. Chapter 16 Kidnapped, Again

Flight of Souls 

**Chapter 16 – Kidnapped, Again**

Tia had not been particularly surprised to find Ardeth gone when she awoke, but she had been disappointed. Last night had been surprising, and Tia realized she was looking forward to making love with Ardeth again. She shrugged. She would be here for quite some time – years probably. No doubt they'd be spending quite a bit of that time in bed.

Tia walked to the horse enclosures. She noted the absence of two-year-old Flute Song and assumed that Ardeth was out riding her. "Good morning," said a voice behind her.

Tia turned to see Evie a few paces behind. "Good morning, Mrs. O'Connell," Tia replied.

Evie waved a hand dismissively. "Call me Evelyn or Evie." She came up to the pen Tia was standing near and reached over to stroke the muzzle of the horse inside. "That conversation last night must have been fairly traumatic for you," she said. "I'm sorry for that."

Tia shrugged. "I'm not sure there is a good way to learn that you've a past life as a doomed Egyptian princess."

Evie laughed. "Probably not." She bit her lip and studied the horse. "I'm concerned about you, Tia. Are you all right?"

"What do you mean?"

Evie flushed a bit. "I mean with Ardeth. He's a fine man and all, but.... you ARE his captive."

Tia sighed. "It was either that or kill me. Of the two I'd say kidnapping was kinder."

"That's not precisely what I mean."

"I suppose you mean that I've been sentenced to some sort of sexual servitude?" Tia twisted her lips.

Evie flushed even more. "Well, yes."

Tia was silent for a moment. "Since you told me last night that I once was Princess Tiye, the memories have been coming easier. I remember being forced into a man's bed – Imhotep's bed. I remember what it felt like to be with a man that cared nothing for me. I was only a bloodline to suit his ambition and an acceptably attractive body to slake his lust. Ardeth isn't like that. He's been very kind to me. He makes me feel beautiful."

"Tia, I know I only met you yesterday, but I feel like your sister." Evie smiled wryly, "Especially since we WERE sisters once. I feel responsible for you."

"Evie, that means a great deal to me. I could use a big sister. I haven't any family left since my parents died. "Tia smiled. "I don't think Ardeth will let me go, not now anyway. Does it make you feel better to know that it's not so bad? The people here have treated me very well. I've become very fond of Lady A'isha and Lord Asim."

"Well," Evie said. "Ardeth will have me to answer to if he hurts you in any way."

Tia smiled. "I'm sure he knows that." She indicated the bay mare and foal. "Do you want to give me a hand? I want to walk them down to the oasis, and it's much easier with two people."

"What do you want me to do?"

Tia handed her a lead rope. "Take the mare. I'll lead the foal."

The two women had quite a time leading the pair to the oasis. The mare walked sedately, but the foal tried to drag Tia in several different directions. Both Evie and Tia were shaking with laughter by the time the horses had reached the water. "Whew!" Evie sighed as Tia released the baby to play in the water next to his mother.

"Believe it or not, that was easier than yesterday," Tia said with a smile. "That foal is a handful."

"He won't run off will he?"

"Not far," Tia replied, sitting on the ground near a clump of underbrush. "His mother will call him back if he strays too far away."

The man crouching under cover in the bushes couldn't believe his luck. He'd been sent to discover the whereabouts of the American girl, and here she was, sitting not fifteen feet away. There was no mistaking it. She'd loosened her veil to talk to the other woman, and her face was clearly seen. Surely no one else in this part of the desert could have blond hair and golden eyes? Carefully he scanned the area. There was no one else in sight except for the English woman. An opportunity like this might never come along again. Slowly he pulled out his pistol and cocked it as silently as possible. Moving slowly and silently he eased his way through the brush, trying to get as close as possible before they noticed him. He listened cautiously. The women were chatting to each other, their conversation covering the slight sounds of moving brush.

A slight movement behind her caught the corner of Evie's eye. She turned quickly to see a man standing there. His headcloth was wrapped around his face, covering all but his eyes. His hand was extended, with the barrel of a pistol pointed directly at her.

* * *

Thanks, Lometari, tellergirl and lilynlynn!


	17. Chapter 17 Pursuit

Flight of Souls

Chapter 17 - Pursuit

Rick and Ardeth ended up spending several hours working with Ardeth's horses. The first time they'd returned to the camp to switch mounts, Ardeth had noticed the bay mare and foal weren't in their pen. Assuming that Tia or A'isha had taken the horses to the oasis, he didn't think much of it. When he and Rick returned a second time and the mare and foal were still missing, he wondered, but dismissed it. Likely Evie had gone with Tia and they were deep in discussion of ancient Egypt.

Rick collapsed on the ground under a small tree and took a long swig from a skin full of water. "I haven't done this much riding in years." He leaned back and let out a deep breath. "You have marvelous horses, Ardeth."

Ardeth grinned at the compliment and moved to another pen to check the pregnant Dawn's Light. No signs of imminent labor. He straightened and frowned slightly. Two adolescent boys were leading the bay mare and foal back from the oasis. They looked at him apprehensively. "What is this?" he asked sharply.

The older of the two shrugged and looked uncertain. "They were down at the oasis alone, Lord Ardeth," he said. "Hamid and I just brought them back."

"Alone?" Ardeth's voice became even sharper with alarm. Without another word, he jogged toward his tent and flung back the flap. A quick look inside showed that there was no one there. Swiftly he crossed to his grandfather's tent and disappeared inside. Apprehensively, Rick followed. He reached the tent just in time to meet Ardeth coming out. They stared at each other for a moment. Ardeth's voice was clipped, his face grim. "Tia and Evie took the mare and foal to the water this morning, not long after you and I rode out the first time."

"Goddammit." Rick turned and sprinted toward the oasis, followed closely by the tall Arab.

When the reached the water, they quickly scanned the area. There were several people there, but none were the missing women. Ardeth's eyes began searching the underbrush looking for any disturbance. One area showed several broken branches and trampled foliage. He began to examine the ground nearby. "Rick!"

Rick looked to where Ardeth was pointing, and saw the hieroglyphic drawn in the sand. He looked up. "That's the symbol for 'help'."

* * *

The two adolescent boys gaped in surprise as Ardeth and Rick strode back toward the tents. Rick's usually amiable face was set in grim lines, and Ardeth's looked like an approaching thunderstorm. Ardeth's eyes flicked in the direction of the boys and snapped out an order in Arabic. They fell over themselves to grab saddles and hurried to tack up the two horses indicated.

Ardeth ripped aside his tent flap and disappeared inside. He reappeared a few minutes later, saddlebags in one hand and rifle in the other. Rick emerged from the tent he and Evie had stayed in wearing four pistols in holsters, and carrying his favorite shotgun. Ardeth flung back the flap of his grandfather's tent and walked in. A'isha met him halfway into the tent, grabbed the saddlebags and disappeared into the women's quarters in the back. Ardeth stopped in front of Lord Asim. "Tia and Evelyn O'Connell have been taken away," he said bluntly. Rick and I are going after them."

Asim rose to his feet. "Go with Allah, then Ardeth."

Ardeth nodded curtly. A'isha came out at that moment and handed him the saddlebags. "Take care, my son." He kissed her quickly on the cheek, then turned and strode out.

When he got to the horse pens to two boys had just about finished tacking up the horses. Rick was in the process of strapping the saddle holster for his shotgun onto the saddle of a light gray mare. Ardeth flung the saddlebags onto Midnight Song's back and started to strap them into place. "That's one of my better mares," he said, jerking his chin toward the nearly white horse. "Her name is Silver Dove."

Rick nodded curtly. "Then we'll make good time."

Ardeth thrust his rifle into the holster on the saddle made for it, checked the girth and swung up. "We will."

Rick mounted and the two men rode out, the boys backing hastily out of the way. After seeing the sign Evie had traced in the sand, they'd followed the trail until they'd found the place where two camels had been tethered. Footprints continued out into the desert beyond the oasis. Knowing the area well, Ardeth turned his horse to a narrow path that headed up one of the hills that bordered the camp. This should be a shortcut to wherever the kidnappers had headed. When the reached the trail, he dismounted and checked the tracks. Yes, these were the tracks of the same camels.

"How much of a lead do you think they have?" Rick asked.

"A few hours at least," Ardeth replied, mounting up again. "The camels will be going slower than the horses.

"Will we be able to catch them?"

"I hope so."

* * *

Tia closed her eyes in weariness. The two men who'd kidnapped them kept whipping the camels into a faster gait than the camels wanted to travel in. The resulting jolting was enough to make anyone sick to their stomachs. Riding double on a horse with Ardeth seemed luxurious in comparison. She gritted her teeth and concentrated on breathing in and out. The veil over her face kept the dust out of her nose and mouth. That was one good thing anyway.

Evie wasn't wearing a veil, and was having trouble with the dust. She had to choose between shielding her face with her hands or holding on to the jolting camel. With her hands bound before her, she couldn't do both at the same time. She assumed that the men were pushing the camels at a fast clip to try and avoid pursuit. Obviously they feared that the Medjai would overtake them. Evie knew that Ardeth had some magnificent horses, and like most desert men, was a good tracker. She also knew that Rick wouldn't rest until he'd found her. She just hoped that help would come soon. There was no way of knowing how long they'd been gone before they were missed.

An hour or so before sundown, the men stopped. The camels groaned as they went down on their knees so their riders could dismount. Tia staggered away from the camel. She'd barely regained her balance when one of the men, Bakkar, she thought she'd heard him called, grabbed her arm and shoved her to the ground. The other man, Malik, forced Evie to the ground next to her. He snarled an order in Arabic. "Stay put." Or at least that's what Tia thought he said.

The women exchanged glances. "Are you okay?" Tia asked. Evie was coughing, choking up the dust she'd inhaled.

Bakkar came over the backhanded Tia across the face, knocking her over. "No talking!" Malik got out a radio and started it up, talking into it in a low voice. Tia levered herself back up to a sitting position and pressed the veil into her stinging lip. The edge of the fabric turned red.

Evie reached out and put her hands on Tia's shoulder, squeezing slightly. "They'll come for us," she mouthed. Tia nodded. Yes, they would. The only question was when.

* * *

You're right ephona, I do love all the reviews! When I saw I had 16 waiting for me my eyes nearly bugged out of my head. Hope you like this chapter too. 


	18. Chapter 18 Remembering the Curse

Flight of Souls 

**Chapter 18 – Remembering the Curse**

The sun was under the horizon when Ardeth and Rick pulled up their horses for the third time. "There is no point in continuing," Ardeth said heavily. "We can't follow this trail in the dark." They'd already had to backtrack twice. "We could lose the trail completely."

Rick nodded wearily. He hated the thought of delaying until morning, but there was nothing else to do. He glanced at the small sliver of moon in the sky. Not enough light to go by. He dismounted, wincing as his feet touched the ground. "You know, Ardeth," he said, rubbing his backside. "Remember when I told you I liked your horses? I take it all back."

Ardeth grinned briefly, then arranged his saddle on the ground to use as a pillow. "Here," he said, tossing Rick a blanket.

"Thanks," he said, propping his shotgun next to his own saddle for easy reach if necessary. "Did your mother pack any food in that thing?"

Ardeth rummaged around. "Dried strips of meat and some bread." He handed some over.

"Dare I hope its beef?"

"Mutton."

"I hate mutton," Rick said conversationally, and then philosophically took a bite.

"I suspect our friends are headed toward the river. They must have a boat waiting to take them to Cairo."

"You think they're going to Cairo?"

Ardeth shrugged. "That's where Varne is. I cannot imagine who else could be behind this."

"I'm going to kill him."

"Not if I get to him first."

"Hey, it's my job to kill the bad guys."

"You got to kill Imhotep and the Scorpion King. I just get mummies and flunkies. It's my turn."

"You got all those Anubis warriors." Rick pointed out.

"True enough."

"Only one problem that I can see," Rick sat up straighter and looked at Ardeth. "If this guy keeps getting reincarnated, what's the point of killing him? Won't he just come back?"

Ardeth frowned. "There must be a way to either trap or destroy his soul."

"The Scorpion King couldn't come back without the bracelet of Anubis, and Imhotep needed someone to recite from the Book of the Dead. What's this guy's story? How did he come back?"

Ardeth's frown grew deeper. "I don't know. We'll have to find out."

* * *

Sir Randolph Varne prowled restlessly around the Cairo Museum of Antiquities, once again after hours. Word had come that evening that his men had picked up Tia DeWitt. Good. Time to end things again. He sat on a wooden bench and stared sightlessly at a sarcophagus. How many times would he need to do this? Sir Randolph closed his eyes. The memories flooded back. He was at Hamunaptra, in 1290 BC.

Ramses II, Pharaoh of all Egypt sat impassively and surveyed the scene before him. He was in the preparation room, watching as Imhotep's priests were mummified alive. The terrified screams and struggles failed to move him. So should all traitors perish. Two Medjai guards led Imhotep before him.

"So you have killed the girl and the child." It was not a question. Ramses stared back without answering. Imhotep looked almost amused. "So anxious were you to destroy my seed that you murdered a young girl and a babe in arms. And the girl WAS pregnant, Ramses. The god Anubis told me so. One day I will be granted command over the sands, and will visit the ten plagues on Egypt. It will happen within your lifetime, Ramses, I swear it.

Ramses smirked. "High words from a man about to endure the Hom-die."

Very well, Divine Pharaoh," Imhotep mocked, "my line is extinct and will no more walk on this earth. You have murdered my son and destroyed my wife before her womb could bear fruit. You have cursed me for all eternity. Now I curse you. If I have lost a son, you will lose a dozen. The soul of my child will be your downfall."

Ramses smirked again and jerked his head toward the Medjai. "Finish it." The small smile remained on his face throughout the gruesome process. He left the room only after the lock had turned in Imhotep's coffin.

Sir Randolph opened his eyes, this time focusing on the darkened displays around him. It HAD come true. He had lived to see the deaths of twelve of his sons. He had outwitted the curse, however. Between his eight wives and all his concubines he'd had a great multitude of children. Yes, losing twelve of his sons was tragic, but the thirteenth lived to rule after him. The ten plagues, well that had come true as well. Yet he, and Egypt had survived them.

Imhotep had sworn that the soul of his child would be Ramses's downfall. Impossible. It had been his intention to bury Tiye and Horemheb without the funeral rites expected of the Egyptians. He had intended to banish their souls forever. His wife, however, had intervened. Nefertari had been a woman of great strength of character. He'd ended up promising to have them buried properly. He had, however, taken one last precaution without her knowledge.

The ancient Egyptians believed in life after death, and that the dead went to some blessed afterworld. In addition to the ka (spirit guide), Egyptians had a soul that was released from the body after death. This soul traveled wherever it pleased during the day, but at night the soul returned to the body. The body was preserved – mummified – so that the soul could recognize to which body it belonged. Mummification was a long, exacting process. It took seventy days to complete. Vital organs were removed and placed in Canopic jars. Natron salt was used to dry out the body completely. The body was then anointed with coniferous resins, and wrapped in linen cloth soaked in resin. The mummy was placed in its tomb along with whatever was needed for a happy afterlife. The very last ceremony was the opening of the mummy's mouth. Without this ceremony, the soul would not be able to travel. It would be trapped, helpless, within the mummified body.

Sir Randolph rose to his feet and moved toward the exit. Yes, he was safe. This last ceremony had never been done on the mummy of young Horemheb. The soul of Imhotep's child was trapped inside the 3000-year-old body. And the Medjai, he thought to himself, would continue to guard the tomb and make sure that no nitwitted archeologist would ever stumble across it.

* * *

Author's Note: BIG bit of creative license here. The bit about the soul traveling around and returning to the body at night is indeed ancient Egyptian belief. The opening of the mouth ceremony is indeed the last ceremony performed on the mummy. However, the reason for it is so the mummy could regain the ability to move, talk and eat, which it would need to be able to do in the afterlife. I made up the bit about trapping the soul to serve the plot of my story.

Like I mentioned earlier in the story, Ramses II was thought to be the Pharaoh who dealt with Moses over the Hebrews leaving Egypt, so the Ten Plagues would indeed have been visited upon him. The part about twelve of his sons dying before him is also true – his thirteenth son is the one who succeeded him as Pharaoh. That son, Merneptah, was the fourth son of his second wife, Isa-Norfret. (Of course, since Ramses lived to be in his 90's, it isn't surprising that he outlived many of his children. Supposedly he had around 100 of them.)

Thank you for the reviews, Lometari, lilylynn and ephona. And Nakhti, as to your question about whether or not they had two-way radios in the 30's? I haven't the faintest idea.:)


	19. Chapter 19 Continuing

Flight of Souls

Chapter 19 - Continuing

Rick and Ardeth were up and in the saddle before the sun had completely cleared the horizon. Neither had slept much. "Our chances of catching them before they reach the river aren't good," Ardeth said. "We lost too much time."

Rick nodded. "They wouldn't have had to stop. You think they headed for the river?"

"Yes," the Medjai replied. "They would have turned north by now if they were not. No doubt they'll travel north by boat."

"To Cairo?"

"To Cairo."

"Would it be faster if we left the trail and turned north?" Rick asked.

"What if I'm wrong and they're not taking them to Cairo?"

"Ardeth," Rick looked at him seriously. "We're not going to beat them to the Nile. We'll be hopelessly behind if we continue following them this way. We need to turn north."

Ardeth was silent for a long moment. At last he nodded, and turned his horse's head.

* * *

Dawn found the two women dozing fitfully on the dirt floor of a small, empty shed. The radio that Malik had used had summoned a jeep that had been used to transport Tia and Evie to a small village near the Nile. Once there, they'd been shoved into the shed. From the smell of it, it was sometimes used to shelter donkeys. Tia had immediately fallen into an exhausted sleep. Now, however, the light peeking through gaps in the walls and muscles sore and cramped from lying on the ground combined to wake her. Her hands were still bound in front of her and her shoulder muscles were crying out.

Pushing herself into a sitting position, she looked around the small space. It was about fifteen feet square, with a low, slanted roof. Evie was lying a few feet away, still asleep. Tia shakily got to her feet and moved to the nearest wall. Peering out through one of the holes, she saw little more than a dusty street and a few houses.

"See anything?"

Tia turned to see Evie sitting up. "Not really." Tia moved to the back wall and peeked out. "Looks like our friends have posted a guard."

Evie got to her feet and came to look. "It appears they have."

"What do you think our chances are of getting out of here?"

Evie shook her head. "Not good. This," she tapped on the flimsy walls," is no problem. It wouldn't be hard to break out of here. The problem is the guards." She looked out each side of the shed. There were three guards, all armed. "Varne is going through a great deal of trouble to get you back."

* * *

The shabby looking inn seemed exactly the same. Had it really only been a few days since he'd been here? Ardeth dismounted wearily and removed the saddlebags and rifle from the horse's back. Rick slid to the ground and leaned against the gray mare for a moment, waiting for his muscles to be willing to stretch out again.

"Are you all right?" Ardeth asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"My knees are locked in one position," Rick said conversationally.

Ardeth smiled briefly and swung the saddlebags over his shoulder. The same adolescent boy came running out, and Ardeth handed him Midnight Song's reins. "Walk them until they are cool," he ordered in Arabic. "Come on," he said to Rick, switching to English. "Time to rest."

* * *

Author's note – Yes, I know, this is a pretty short chapter. Sorry! The next bit had to all be together, I couldn't figure out how to break it up so I didn't.

Thank you Satiana, tellergirl, Nakhti and lilylynn. You guys are good for my ego!


	20. Chapter 20 Ancient Nightmares

Flight of Souls 

**Chapter 20 – Ancient Nightmares**

Robert Varne awoke in a cold sweat. He'd had those dreams again. Throwing back the covers, he staggered to the bathroom and splashed water on his face. The face that looked back from the mirror looked ordinary enough. A young man of twenty-two, his jaw stubbled with a day old beard. His dark hair was slightly damp with water and sweat, and his brown eyes were haunted by the visions seen in sleep. Returning to the bedroom, Robert put on his robe and wandered into the kitchen. It was barely 5:00 AM, and the housekeeper wouldn't be up for another hour. He poked around in the cabinets, finding the coffee pot. Hoping he remembered how to use the damn thing, he measured the grounds and set it brewing. Robert slumped at the table and put his head in his hands. The dreams were getting more and more frequent. Sometimes he wondered if he was going mad.

It had begun two years ago. He'd been in college in London. His father, Sir Randolph, had wanted him to go to college in Egypt, but Robert had held out for England. The further away from his father he could get, the better he liked it. They'd never gotten along. Sir Randolph was a cold, unloving man. In addition to that, Robert had always had the vague feeling that his father was a danger to him. He'd never had any reason for feeling this way, but the fact remained. So, two years ago, Robert had been living on his own in London. He'd had his own flat, a relief after the cold formality of his father's town house.

It had all stemmed, he thought, from the woman who'd moved into another flat on his floor. They'd encountered from time to time in the hallway, or waiting for the lift. She'd been stunningly beautiful, but her manner toward Robert had been one of amused contempt. He shivered at the memory. Meela Nais, her name had been.

He'd encountered her late one night coming up from the lobby. She'd had an odd friend with her, a tall man wearing black robes and some sort of mask over his face. Perhaps they'd been to a costume party? He had nodded politely and stepped aside to go around them, but Meela had put out a hand to stop him. "Robert," she had purred, taking his arm. "You must come over for a nightcap. There is someone I would like you to meet." She'd steered him toward the door of her own flat. Robert had gone along, not knowing how to refuse. Her tall friend in the mask had said nothing. She had not introduced him. Ten minutes later, Robert had sat gingerly on a sofa in her lavishly decorated living room, sipping scotch and wondering how the hell he was going to get out of there.

Since Meela had handed him his drink, she and her odd friend had ignored him. They'd started speaking in ancient Egyptian of all things. Robert had learned that language at the insistence of his father, so he'd been able to understand what they said. The words, that is. The content of their discussion was so bizarre he could hardly believe it.

"I thought you would want to see him." Meela had said.

The masked man seemed to study Robert. "Yes, indeed." The man's voice was oddly muffled because of the mask. "You could not find the other one?"

"No," she answered. "There has been no trace of his soul." She smiled. "The year of the Scorpion is a good one. I have been able to find many of those that we both recall. Nefertari, you saw tonight. Hentumire lives in France. Tiye lives in America. Some of the minor nobles and priests are scattered about Africa and Europe. Ramses is an Englishman, but he lives in Cairo. This one," she indicated Robert, "is Ramses's son in this life."

"Truly?" The voice sounded amused. "Does he know?"

"No," Meela sounded scornful. "Neither does his father. Ramses thinks him one of his own – one of the boys who died young perhaps."

The masked man made an amused sound and turned toward Robert. "He understands, you know." The man moved closer to Robert, who rose from the sofa and stood silently. "You have no memory of me," the voice said quietly. "How could you, when I died before you were born? Yes, even as you did. You were murdered in the womb. Yet I am your father, thousands of years ago in Hamunaptra. It seems my line is not extinct." The man reached out with a gloved hand and put a finger under Robert's chin. His flesh seemed to shrink at the touch, but he couldn't move. "You do not know what I mean. But you will, Robert Varne. You will."

The man had turned away at that point and resumed speaking to Meela. "First we must awake and defeat the Scorpion King. After that we will deal with Ramses. I have plans for this one," he jerked his head toward Robert, "but they will wait."

A few moments later, Robert had found himself ushered out the door and left unceremoniously in the hallway. He'd made his way slowly back to his own flat, his mind reeling. What in heaven's name had that been about?

He'd tried to dismiss it as a bizarre joke. He'd never seen either of them again. Meela Nais had apparently just disappeared. After several months, the landlord had put her things into storage and leased the flat out to someone else. He didn't know if she'd ever turned up again for her property, of if the landlord had eventually just sold everything.

The dreams had begun soon thereafter. Visions of ancient Egypt. A woman who looked like Meela Nais, with the same manner of amused contempt. A man with a shaved head and a cruel smile. A teenaged girl with fear in her golden brown eyes. A man who resembled his father wearing the crown of Pharaoh.

Robert ran his hands through his hair and glanced at the coffee pot. It had finished brewing, so he rose and found a cup in a cupboard. He added cream and sugar and sipped cautiously. After a grimace, he added more cream. There was a lot to be said for housekeepers. They could usually brew a decent cup of coffee. He resumed his seat at the table and sipped his coffee again, welcoming the heat of the cup in his hands. The dreams always made him feel cold, as if he was dead.

He thought idly of Tia DeWitt, and wondered if she was enjoying her trek out to the desert. He'd tried to talk her out of going, but she'd been determined. It reminded him that he wanted to go talk to Dr. Tierney at the museum today. Perhaps he had some word when the archeological team would return. He took another sip of coffee. He needed to think about Tia. He felt an overwhelming urge to protect her, but felt almost no desire toward her. It made him uneasy. How could he be in love with her without wanting to kiss her or touch her in an intimate way?

* * *

Thank you for the reviews, mrsblonde1503, Dancingwind and Lometari. I appreciate your comments! 


	21. Chapter 21 Not in Cairo

Flight of Souls 

**Chapter 21 – Not in Cairo**

It was impossible, Tia decided, for anyone to spend four days in a tiny hut with a dirt floor and not look like something the cat dragged in. Both women looked considerably the worse for wear. Their bonds had been cut the first day, leaving behind angry red marks on their wrists. Their clothes were crumpled and dirty, and they were covered with so much dust that Tia's dark blond hair and Evie's dark brown hair both seemed to be a similar medium brown. The man who had opened the door of their prison seemed to be of a similar mind. "They're filthy," he stated flatly. "I cannot bring them aboard Sir Randolph's yacht looking like that." He had turned and walked out the door in disgust. Tia and Evie exchanged glances. What would happen now?

About an hour later the door opened again, this time to a pair of men lugging a large tub. Several other men followed, each carrying a bucket of water. The man who had complained about their appearance set down a bundle of clothing. "Bathe and change," he said coldly. "I will return in an hour."

Evie and Tia looked at each other again as the door closed behind the men, leaving them alone. "Well," Evie said, starting to unbutton her shirt. "If we're going to our deaths, we might as well be clean."

* * *

Sir Randolph settled himself in a large ornate armchair in the parlor of his yacht. He gazed out the window toward the small village that lay on the bank of the Nile. Troublesome business, this. Having to go through this much bother to rid himself of a chit of a girl. First the Medjai had failed to kill the girl. Then his men had failed to eliminate Ardeth Bey. Their bodies had been discovered two days after he'd sent them after the troublesome Medjai. Now, they'd picked up another woman along with Tia DeWitt. Probably some desert tribesman's wife. Sir Randolph hoped the men had made a clean escape. The last thing he needed was a tribe of irate horsemen following him.

A light tap sounded on the door, which opened to reveal Sir Randolph's manservant. "The women are here, sir."

"Very good, Jensen. Send them in." Jensen bowed and stepped back. Two women, both robed and veiled in black garments were ushered into the room.

Evie took one look at the man sitting before them and her heart nearly stopped. "Dear God," she whispered. It was true then. A vision of a man in a white linen robe, jeweled necklet and armbands, and the imposing double crown of Egypt wavered before her eyes. Ramses II.

Sir Randolph didn't look at her. He looked instead at Tia. He rose and went to her, pulling her veil from her face. He didn't see the blond hair and fair skin. Instead he saw a black wig, threaded with gold strands and colorful beads. A dusky complexion, artfully accented with red tinted lips. He didn't see a young woman of more than twenty years, but a young girl of fifteen. The only things that were the same were the eyes. Tawny gold eyes that should belong to a desert cat. "Do you not remember, little Tiye? Do you not remember me?"

Tia looked steadily at him. Her stomach was churning with nerves, but she ignored them. "I remember you. I remember Imhotep and Anck-su-namun. I remember Nefertari and my father, Pharaoh Seti I. And I remember Horemheb. I remember that you had a young child and a teenaged girl executed."

Sir Randolph smiled coldly. "I did indeed. So should die all who oppose mighty Pharaoh."

"Pharaoh?" Evie stepped forward and pulled her own veil away. "There is no Pharaoh anymore."

Sir Randolph gaped in astonishment at the face that was revealed. "Nefertari?" He rose and went to her. "Is it really you?" But as he reached out a hand to touch her face, Evie stepped back out of reach. Sir Randolph pulled his hand back, his eyes narrowing. "You were more friendly to me once, my Queen."

"I've spent the last four days locked in a filthy shed," Evie said acidly. "I'm low on friendliness."

Sir Randolph smiled. "Have you come to seek me out, my Queen?" He went on, his voice lowering to a soft croon. "Nefertari, the most beautiful of all my wives. Mother of my first born son." He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder, stroking it down her back. "I've missed you."

* * *

A few hours of sleep and a decent meal found Ardeth and Rick in much better shape. Ardeth had sent Da'ud out to find out what he could as Ardeth feared he himself would be too conspicuous.

Da'ud returned just as Ardeth and Rick finished the meal that Da'ud's wife had prepared for them. "I do not have good news my friends," Da'ud said soberly. "Sir Randolph Varne left Cairo several days ago."

The two other men exchanged glances. "Where did he go?" Ardeth asked grimly.

Da'ud shrugged. "I could not find out. He went by boat up the Nile."

"What kind of boat?" Rick asked.

"He has a big fancy yacht," Da'ud answered. "It is named after the Egyptian goddess of love."

"Hathor?" Rick questioned.

"My friend, I must ask you to perform another task for me," Ardeth said. "Find out what the next boat heading upriver is and book passage for O'Connell and me." He handed over a small pouch. "Use whatever is left to care for my horses until I can return for them." Da'ud took the pouch, bowed briefly and left again.

Rick leaned back in his chair and put a hand over his eyes. "Ardeth, I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"I talked you into coming to Cairo instead of continuing to follow the trail."

Ardeth shook his head wearily. "Do not blame yourself, Rick. I am as much at fault as you."

"If anything happens to Evie, I don't know what I'll do," Rick said softly.

Ardeth rose and grasped Rick's shoulder, giving him a brief shake. "If Varne really is Ramses II reincarnated, he may recognize Evelyn as Nefertari. I can't imagine he'd harm her."

Rick looked up. "So my wife is in the hands of a nutcase who probably thinks she's his long lost Queen?" He shook his head. "You really know how to make a guy feel better about things." He took a deep breath. "What will he do to Tia, do you think?" Ardeth stared at him for a moment, and then dropped his eyes. "Ah, hell," Rick muttered. "Goddammit to hell."

* * *

Author's note - Sorry for the longer than usual delay on updating. I was away for Thanksgiving. Thank you tellergirl, Lometari and mrsblonde1503 for the reviews!


	22. Chapter 22 Intimidation

Flight of Souls 

**Chapter 22 – Intimidation**

Evie stared broodingly out the tiny porthole in the cabin she and Tia had been locked into. "He's completely delusional," she declared.

Tia sat on the bed and fiddled with her veil. "Because he thinks he was Ramses the Great?"

"No, because he thinks he's STILL Ramses the Great," Evie corrected firmly. "I may once have been Queen Nefertari, but I know that in this life I'm Evelyn Carnahan O'Connell. I'm not an Egyptian queen anymore. That's the difference, Tia."

"He wasn't so bad when I met him a couple months ago in Cairo," Tia said. "He was aloof and not terribly friendly, but he didn't seem delusional."

"You met him a few months ago?"

Tia twisted her lips in wry amusement. "I was dating his son."

Evie raised an eyebrow. "Hardly seems a reason to kill you."

"No, especially since it wasn't really a very intense relationship." Tia shrugged. "I liked his company, and I liked that he took me to nice places, but there was nothing THERE, if you know what I mean."

Evie frowned and sat on the foot of Tia's bed. "I think I do. So you had a friendly, fairly non-sexual relationship with Varne's son."

"I think he only kissed me once or twice. No sparks. Nothing." Tia shrugged. "I can understand his not approving, or thinking me not good enough for Robert, but trying to have me killed seems a bit extreme."

* * *

Ardeth and Rick strode through the doors of the Museum of Antiquities. "So why are we here, exactly?" Rick inquired as they walked swiftly through a room dedicated to a display of pottery.

"Tierney may be able to tell us where Varne might have gone," Ardeth replied, heading for a door marked 'Employees Only, Do Not Enter'.

Rick courteously opened the door and held it for the Medjai warrior. "Thank you," Ardeth said politely.

"Not at all," Rick answered. They continued down a hall dotted with doorways.

A young man stepped out of one of the doorways. "Hey," he said accusingly. "What are you…" His eyes fell first on Ardeth's tattoos, then the sword strapped at his hip, and his words petered out. An aura of menace emanating from the Arab's narrowed eyes finished the job. The man hurriedly stepped back into his office and shut the door.

"Very nice," said Rick admiringly. "If I had a glare as menacing as yours, I probably wouldn't have to use my guns at all."

"Tricks of the trade," Ardeth said with a shrug. "Convenient at times." He stopped in front of a door and listened carefully before turning the knob silently and easing the door open.

Dr. Tierney was sitting at his desk, leafing through a ledger. He started violently when Ardeth said "Good afternoon, Tierney."

Ashen faced, he shrank into his chair. "Oh God, not you again!"

Ardeth's eye browed lifted in mock astonishment. "You aren't pleased to see me? You wound me, Tierney."

Rick casually sauntered into the room and perched on the edge of the desk. "Hi, Tierney, how's it going?"

"Mr. O'Connell!" Tierney gaped at Rick, and then turned to Ardeth again. "Why is Mr. O'Connell here? There is nothing untoward about their dig in the Valley of Kings…"

"Of course not," the Medjai said smoothly. "I'm here to ask you about Sir Randolph again."

"He's not in Cairo," Tierney said desperately.

"I know that," Ardeth said silkily. "I want to know where he is."

"You see," Rick said, absently examining his fingernails, "Varne apparently has my wife with him, and I need to talk to him." He pulled a knife from his boot and used it to trim off a broken edge from his left thumbnail. "While I'm SURE that Sir Randolph merely wants to discuss the latest archeological findings with Evelyn, I have to admit feeling a bit perturbed not to have been asked along." Satisfied with his nails, Rick examined the blade of the knife closely, frowning a bit over a small nick.

Ardeth eyed Tierney who was now a quivering wreck in his desk chair. "Where's Varne?"

Another voice spoke up from the doorway. "Who wants to know?"

Almost instantly, Ardeth's sword was out of its sheath and was poised beneath the chin of the young man standing there. "Who are you?"

The young man's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "R..R..Robert Varne."

Ardeth pulled his sword back a few inches, and a cold smile spread across his face. "Are you then?"

Rick raised his eyebrows. "That would be Sir Randolph's son, right?"

"Right," Robert said uneasily.

"And what, may I ask, are you doing here?" Ardeth asked silkily.

"I came to check on the archeological team that went out a couple weeks ago," Robert said.

Ardeth and Rick turned back to Tierney, who groaned and sank his head into his hands.

"Haven't told him, have you?" Rick asked, starting to play with the knife again. "Good Lord, Ardeth, why don't you just kill him and get it over with?" Tierney took one look at him, then his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed onto the floor in a dead faint.

The Medjai warrior looked down at the unconscious man and prodded him with his foot. "You're getting better at subtle." He said. "He's out cold and you didn't even draw your gun."

Rick looked at Tierney with satisfaction. "It can be a lot of fun," he admitted. "Seriously though, what are you going to do about him?"

Ardeth sighed. "I am not sure. Cairo isn't under my command. This is the territory of a different Medjai tribe. I need to speak with the commander of the Dareb tribe. I just haven't had time."

Rick shrugged and dismissed the curator from his mind. "So what about this one?" He jerked his head toward Robert, who was backed up against a wall with a look of terrified bewilderment on his face.

The easy familiarity that marked Ardeth's conversation with Rick drained away as he looked at Robert Varne, his face becoming harder, colder and more menacing. "Where's your father?"

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews, lilylynn, mrsblonde1503 and tellergirl. And ILoveUrStory – that's one hell of a compliment. I'm flattered. 


	23. Chapter 23 Up the Nile

Flight of Souls 

**Chapter 23 – Up The Nile**

Sir Randolph Varne awoke. He stretched and sat up, pushing back the pure Egyptian cotton sheets. A quick pull on the bell rope brought Jensen, his manservant, bearing a silver tray containing a silver tea set. Sir Randolph donned his silk dressing gown and moved languidly to the small breakfast table in his luxurious suite. As Jensen poured tea and arranged toast on a china plate, Sir Randolph gazed idly out the window at the western shore of the Nile slipping by as his yacht slowly moved upstream. In his mind he was not an English gentleman breakfasting on tea and buttered toast, but an Egyptian Pharaoh. Even as his fingers stroked down the black velvet lapels of the monogrammed dressing gown, he felt a white linen robe instead. The delicate china teacup seemed in his mind to be a golden goblet.

"Will that be all, sir?" Jensen inquired politely. He watched, dismayed, as Sir Randolph's eyes cleared briefly, then clouded up again. At Sir Randolph's curt nod, Jensen bowed briefly and exited the room. As he soundlessly closed the door behind him, Jensen allowed worry to appear on his usually impassive face. It was getting worse and worse. His employer was rapidly going mad. His mind spent less and less time in the present and more and more time in the past.

* * *

The cabin that Da'ud had booked them aboard the steamer headed up the Nile was reasonably sized, but with the three men inside it still seemed cramped. Ardeth stood brooding at the small porthole looking out at the river. The Nile flowed north, so anyone traveling south had to fight the current. The steamer wasn't making particularly good time, and the Arab warrior was restless. Even though they were traveling faster than the group could have gone on horseback, he still felt edgy. If he'd been traveling alone he could probably have done it, but although Rick was a decent rider, he wasn't nearly as good as Ardeth. As for Robert, well, the boat was a better option. Boats continued to move at night. Horses needed to rest. Even though he knew it was the right thing to do, he still disliked it. Sitting in a small room doing nothing was against his nature. He much preferred to be in the wide-open spaces of the desert, with the wind in his face.

"Looks like our friend fell asleep," Rick commented quietly. Ardeth turned and glanced at Robert Varne, who was stretched out on one of the bunks. Rick sat at a small table taking one of his guns apart to clean it. "So, care to tell me why we brought him along?"

"A number of reasons," Ardeth replied. "He may know where Varne would go, and he'd recognize the yacht right away. And as a worse case scenario, we might be able to trade him for the women, or at least for Evie," Ardeth said bitterly.

Rick glanced up from his gun. "You don't know that Varne has harmed Tia. Don't borrow trouble."

* * *

Each evening at dusk Sir Randolph's yacht, the Hathor, tied up on the bank. Promptly at 9:00 each night, dinner was served in the tastefully decorated salon. Jensen would escort Evie, wearing one of the expensive evening gowns procured for her use, to the dining room. She and Sir Randolph would sit down to an exquisitely cooked meal, accompanied by fine wines. They would eat off delicate china plates with expensive silver cutlery. The wines would be served in beautiful crystal goblets. She and Sir Randolph would discuss art, music and the theatre, at least on those occasions that it was actually Sir Randolph that Evie was talking to. Sometimes she found herself attempting to hold a conversation with Pharaoh Ramses the Great.

After one such evening, Evie waited patiently in the hall while Jensen unlocked the door of the stateroom she and Tia occupied. It was nearly midnight, but Tia was awake and reading in bed when she entered the room.

"How was dinner?" Tia asked.

Evie kicked off the designer satin pumps and sank down on the padded bench next to the closet that held the selection of evening gowns she'd been given. "Today he was Ramses." She ran her fingers through her hair. "God, it's creepy."

Tia grimaced in sympathy, pushed back the satin coverlet on the bed and set down her book. "Need help getting out of that dress?" She crossed the room toward Evie, who rose and turned so that Tia could undo the zipper. Since they'd been brought on board two days ago, Sir Randolph had completely ignored Tia's existence. He never mentioned her, and if Evie mentioned her, he ignored the remark as if she hadn't spoken. Neither woman was sure what this meant. On one hand, Tia wasn't at all displeased to be served a tray in her room rather than have to endure the formal dinners that Evie was subjected to. On the other, it seemed ominous.

"Did you find out where we are?" Tia asked as Evie shrugged out of the deep red silk gown.

"We're on the West Bank of Thebes." Evie said, hanging the dress in the closet.

"Thebes?" Tia questioned.

"Thebes," Evie confirmed. "I don't know why we're here, but Varne doesn't plan on moving on tomorrow. "

"Why the west bank?" Tia asked. "Isn't the city on the east bank?"

"Yes."

Tia sank back onto her bed and wrapped her arms around her legs. "I wish I knew where Ardeth and Rick are."

Evie put on a simple cotton nightdress. "You and me both."

* * *

Rick sat back on his bunk and rested his head on the wall. The enforced inactivity of the past two days on this boat was getting on his nerves. Too many thoughts of his wife and what might be happening to her were crowding his brain. Ardeth was twice as bad. He'd scarcely been capable of uttering a civil word for the past twelve hours, and was spending most of his time on deck glaring over the rail toward the shore. It left Rick to spend most of his time in the cabin keeping watch over Robert Varne. While it wasn't Rick's favorite job, it was better than making Ardeth do it. If Ardeth was having a hard time being civil to Rick, he wasn't even trying to be civil to Robert. Rick glanced at Robert, who was sitting on his own bunk staring morosely out the porthole. The Medjai warrior had the poor kid scared to death of him. Robert looked up to see Rick looking at him. "We'll be in Thebes tomorrow, right?"

"That's right," Rick replied. Robert said nothing more, so Rick took out a pack of cards and dealt himself a game of Solitaire. He was halfway through the game when Robert spoke again.

"That's probably where my father is," Robert admitted, looking down at his hands.

Rick cocked an eyebrow and put a red six on a black seven. "What makes you think so?"

Robert shrugged. "When he leaves Cairo and heads south he generally ends up in Thebes. He has a regular slip where he leaves the yacht, and he stays there while he's in the city."

Rick turned over three cards and frowned at the jack of spades. "Why are you being so helpful all of a sudden?" He played the jack on a red queen and looked up at Robert.

Robert flushed a bit, but met Rick's gaze. "I've been listening to the two of you talk. Is it true that he's kidnapped your wife?"

"We don't have any hard evidence," Rick admitted, "but we aren't really in any doubt. She was with Tia DeWitt when she was taken, and Varne has tried to kill Tia once already."

"Tia DeWitt?" Robert paled. "Why would my father try to kill Tia?"

Rick looked back at his cards. "You tell me."

Robert looked bewildered. "He didn't like her – said she wasn't good enough for me, but to try to kill her? You must be mistaken."

Rick gathered up the cards, shuffled and dealt himself another game. "Let me tell you a story."

* * *

Author's Notes:

Please don't be offended ephona! What I'm trying to do when I post a chapter is thank those people who reviewed since the last time I posted. Those people who review every so often instead of every time are still very much appreciated. I'm glad you're still reading.

Thanks for your first review, Liel, and don't worry about your English – it's just fine.

And thank you, lilylynn, for hanging with me!


	24. Chapter 24 An Elegant Dinner

Flight of Souls 

**Chapter 24 - Dinner**

Tia looked at herself in the mirror. The gold satin gown fitted her like a second skin. It was sleeveless, with a low vee neckline and a low cut back. The satin hugged her body, then flared slightly from her hips to the floor, where it swirled around her feet, in matching gold satin pumps with three inch heels. "I haven't worn high heels in a long time," Tia muttered, taking a few steps. "My feet are going to be sore tonight."

Evie smiled briefly and stepped into her own shoes. Her dress was similar in style to Tia's but was a deep midnight blue in color. "We'll mostly be sitting down." Her glance caught Tia's in the mirror. Both women were uneasy. They had no idea why, after ignoring Tia's existence for two days, Sir Randolph would suddenly insist on her presence at dinner that evening.

A soft tap at the door heralded the presence of Jensen. "Ladies, are you ready?"

"Come in," answered Evie. She ran the hairbrush through her hair quickly as Jensen unlocked the door. He smiled and bowed slightly, stepping back into the hallway to allow the women to precede him.

At the door of the salon, the ladies paused to allow Jensen to open the door. "Mrs. O'Connell and Miss DeWitt, sir," Jensen said deferentially as he stepped back to allow the women to enter.

"Thank you, Jensen," Sir Randolph said. "Come in ladies." He bowed formally. "May I pour you a glass of wine?"

The dinner seemed interminable. Sir Randolph sat at the head of the table, every inch the genial host. Evie and Tia sat across from each other. Tia did her best to smile graciously and hold up her end of the conversation, but it was difficult knowing that the suave gentleman sitting to her right had ordered her death. Still, she did her best; joining a discussion of a play Robert had taken her to see in Cairo a few months ago. Evie had seen it in London the previous summer.

At last Sir Randolph rose and moved to the other side of the salon, which was furnished with a comfortable sofa and several deeply upholstered chairs. Evie and Tia followed. "May I offer you a brandy, Miss DeWitt?" Sir Randolph inquired. When she smiled and nodded assent, he turned to pour two glasses. "I assume you will wish one as well, Mrs. O'Connell." When his back was to them, Tia and Evie exchanged a quick look. The evening was nearly ended, thank heavens. One drink, and they could gracefully excuse themselves. Sir Randolph turned and extended one glass to Tia, then offered the other to Evie before pouring a third glass for himself.

"Now, Mrs. O'Connell," he said, seating himself in one of the chairs. "Have you seen many of Shakespeare's works? There is an excellent troupe here in Cairo, which has done several of the bard's plays. I went to see them do Much Ado About Nothing a few weeks ago. Very amusing. Of course, I do prefer his tragedies, but the comedies are still well worth seeing."

"My husband and I went to see A Midsummer Night's Dream shortly before coming to Egypt," Evie answered smoothly. "I enjoyed it very much. The actress who played Titania was superb."

Tia listened absently to the discussion about Shakespeare plays. She considered speaking up – she'd seen the production of Much Ado About Nothing after all - but it seemed too much effort. Her stomach was full of excellent cuisine and fine wine, and the chair she was sitting in seemed to enfold her. She was tired. She sipped the last of her brandy, which burned comfortably down her throat and into her stomach, and regarded the lovely Waterford glass. The cut crystal seemed to blur for a moment, and she blinked hard. There, that was better. Dreamily, she ran her hand over the arm of the chair, enjoying the feel of the expensive fabric under her fingertips. A faint buzzing seemed to sound in her ears, and she shook her head slightly. The buzzing became louder. Puzzled, she looked up. The room seemed to tilt slightly, and the edges of her vision seemed to fill with a light gray mist. Alarm bells seemed to ring deep in Tia's brain, but she was having a hard time focusing on them. Her eyes met Sir Randolph's – hers wide and fearful, his cold and calculating. The brandy, she thought fuzzily. He'd put something in the brandy. Panic lent her energy and she rose shakily to her feet, the heavy crystal glass landing with a muffled thud onto the thick carpet. Evie set aside her own glass and rose with a startled exclamation. Tia tried to speak, but the gray mist closed in, and she collapsed onto the floor.

Evie dropped to her knees at Tia's side, lightly slapping her face. "Tia, Tia?" Evie said urgently.

"She is breathing, is she not?"

At Sir Randolph's calm tone, Evie looked up. He rose, setting aside his own brandy and reached for a bell pull, giving it a quick tug. He looks – satisfied, thought Evie with horror. "You did this, you drugged her," she whispered incredulously.

"I think it time you returned to your room, Mrs. O'Connell," Sir Randolph said, ignoring her question. The door opened and several men came in. "Put the girl in the car," he ordered sharply.

Evie shot to her feet. "What are you doing? Where are you taking her?" One of the men took her arm and pulled her toward the door. "No!" Yanking her arm out of his grip, she lashed out with her fist, catching the man in the mouth. Snatching a heavy cut glass ashtray from a table she hurled it at him, catching him in the cheekbone. Already off balance, the man stumbled and went down. Evie whirled around, scanning the room for something else she could use as a weapon. Another man grabbed her, twisting her arm behind her back and forcing her against a wall. Evie turned her head to see another man lifting a limp Tia into his arms. Evie screamed with rage and stomped her three-inch heel into her captor's instep. He instantly released her with a cry of pain. Stumbling to the table, she made a grab for one of the steak knives still lying on the china plates, but a third man yanked her back. Her hand brushed another object and she clutched it reflexively as the man spun her around and hit her hard across the face. He caught her as she stumbled back against the table, and swung her up over his shoulder. Momentarily stunned, she made no resistance as he strode down the hall and dumped her unceremoniously on her bed. By the time she'd struggled to her feet, he was back out the door, the lock clicking into place behind him.

Thanks tellergirl, Lometari and lilylynn! I appreciate the reviews.


	25. Chapter 25 Last Night on the Boat

Flight of Souls 

**Chapter 25 – Last Night on the Boat**

Robert sat, trying to process the information that Rick had just relayed. It was a fantastic tale. It would have been nearly impossible to believe if he didn't have those uneasy memories of that night in London with Meela Nais and her masked companion. "I've always known that my father had an interest in ancient Egypt, particularly Ramses II, that bordered on obsession," Robert said slowly. "You telling me that he thinks he IS Ramses II actually makes sense." He twisted his lips wryly. "God that sounds weird."

Rick dealt out another game of Solitaire. "This whole business is weird," he agreed. He moved the ace of hearts to its place above the other cards. "So you see why we're anxious to find your father."

Robert nodded. "I see why. Kind of reminds me of an experience I had a few years back." He related the story of the night he'd meet Meela and her friend.

Rick abandoned his cards and looked carefully at Robert as he spoke. "That's very interesting," he mused. "In London, you say? About two years ago?" Imhotep, he thought. The man met Imhotep and Anck-su-namun the night my son was kidnapped. This all probably happened not long after that horrendous bus ride. While Evie and I were panicking and making arrangements to go to Egypt, those two were calmly drinking brandy and confusing the hell out of this kid. Bastards. And that bit about being Imhotep's son that had died in the womb?

Robert watched Rick closely. "Does that mean anything to you?"

"Oh yeah." Rick answered. "Oh yeah."

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Evie stared at the locked door of her cabin. What in God's name was she going to do now? She looked down at her right hand, which was still clutching the item she'd grabbed off the dinner table. It was a butter knife. Great, she thought, a butter knife. What good is that? Idly she turned it over in her hand. It had a lovely pattern of scrolling flowers and leaves on the handle. The blade was wide and thin. She traced her fingers over the blade – still a bit greasy from the butter it had been used to spread earlier. An idea came to her and she eyed the door speculatively. "I wonder…" she said out loud. She walked to the door and inserted the blade of the knife into the crack between the door and the jamb.

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Ardeth leaned against the rail and watched the moon rise over the Nile River. It was a peaceful scene, one that he would have enjoyed under any other circumstances. He sighed deeply and flexed his hands on the rail. Sooner or later he'd have to go below and try to sleep.

"Think you're being a little hard on our little buddy?"

Ardeth glanced at Rick who'd come up behind him. "Probably."

"Maybe you should lighten up a little," Rick said, leaning on the rail next to Ardeth.

"I'm having a hard time looking him in the face," the tall Arab admitted.

Rick raised an eyebrow. "Because he was Tia's boyfriend? Are you actually jealous of that pup?"

"She chose to spend her time with him. It's not like she was able to choose me."

"Because you carried her off into the sunset? Some women like that, you know."

"Rick," Ardeth said patiently, "I killed her companions in front of her eyes. Then I grabbed her, threw her over my saddle and threatened to kill her if she moved. It wasn't particularly romantic."

"I get that," Rick said.

"Then, when we reach my home, I tell her that she belongs to me and that if she didn't submit to me, I'd have to force her."

Rick looked surprised. "Did you? Force her?"

Ardeth looked away. "No."

"Because it wasn't necessary, or because you haven't gotten around to it yet?"

"It wasn't necessary."

Rick looked at him calculatingly. "But if she belongs to you, she doesn't have much of a choice, does she? After all, it's not like Robert Varne can possibly take her away from you. So why does it matter what she wants?"

Ardeth's head snapped back around, his dark eyes flashing dangerously. Then he caught Rick's grin and relaxed. "Bastard."

Rick chuckled sympathetically and clapped him on the shoulder. "You've got it bad, buddy.

"O'Connell, I value your friendship, but sometimes I wish I'd managed to kill you all those years ago in Hamunaptra."

"That's okay," Rick said consolingly. "Sometimes I wish you had too." He gestured toward the gangway that led to the cabins below. "Come on. There's something you need to know."

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Jensen picked up the tray of dirty dishes from the table in the salon and turned toward the door. Then he stopped dead. Evie O'Connell was standing in the doorway with a gun in her hand. "Where is Sir Randolph taking Tia DeWitt?" Evie asked grimly.

Jensen gaped at her. "Mrs. O'Connell! How did you…."

"Never mind," she said impatiently. "Where would Sir Randolph have gone, Jensen?"

"To the tomb, probably," Jensen said in a quavering voice, "He said it was time to lay the girl to rest."

"What tomb?" Evie asked sharply.

"Ramses, of course."

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Ardeth listened to Robert Varne's story with a stony expression. Inside, however, his thoughts were seething. So that's where Anck-su-namun and Imhotep had been after Alex O'Connell had been taken off the bus in front of their noses. They'd sent their flunkies to kidnap the boy while they had cocktails in her London flat with Robert Varne. He reached inside the collar of his robe and ran a finger over one of the scars left from that insane bus ride and the claws of the soldier mummies. He eyed Robert closely. So was this young man really the reincarnation of Imhotep and Tiye's unborn child?

Rick exchanged glances with Ardeth and cocked an eyebrow inquisitively. Should they tell Robert what it meant? Ardeth twisted his lips wryly. Poor kid. He was the reincarnated son of a truly evil man, and he was the modern son of a madman. Neither was a particularly admirable choice.

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Author's Note:

Not a single review for Chapter 24! Gee, I hope it wasn't that bad.


	26. Chapter 26 The Tomb

Flight of Souls 

**Chapter 26 – The Tomb**

Evie slipped quietly through the town that had grown up on the West Bank of Thebes. In ancient times this area was mostly temples, workshops of embalmers and makers of funerary products. She needed to find a way to get to Ramses's tomb, which was in the northern side of the main valley of the Valley of Kings. She'd taken the time to change back into the baggy black pants and shapeless black dress she'd been brought to the yacht in before escaping her room. Satin evening gowns and three-inch heels were not recommended for flight. A quick search of Sir Randolph's room had resulted in the gun she'd used to threaten Jensen. Unfortunately it wasn't loaded and she hadn't been able to find any ammunition for it. Good thing the manservant hadn't called her bluff.

She thought briefly of her own interrupted dig. That, however, was in the other direction. It was further south, near the Temple of Merneptah, and the ancient village of Deir el-Medina, closer to the Valley of Queens. They'd given their diggers two weeks off, so the site was probably deserted. Even if she could get there, there would be no help to be found and she'd be twice as far away from the tomb of Ramses II than she was now.

Crossing the Nile to Thebes proper probably wouldn't help either. If she went to the Egyptian police with a story like this they'd probably lock her up. No, she needed to go directly to the tomb. She'd been there several times and thought she could find it, even at night. She just needed some transportation.

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Tia slowly drifted back to consciousness. She'd been dreaming again about the little boy with the beseeching eyes. She was lying on her back on a hard surface – stone maybe? She shifted her shoulders slightly and moved her arms, which had been lying crossed on her chest. When she opened her eyes, she saw stone walls and a stone ceiling, covered with ancient Egyptian carvings and paintings. Where was she? Blinking, she slowly sat up and looked around. The light was very dim. A couple of torches burned at one end of the long chamber, and a fat wax candle sat on the end of the stone slab she'd been lying on. A bier, she thought with sudden alarm. All around her were similar stone biers, all holding stone or wooden coffins. She was in a burial chamber! She hitched up the gold satin skirt of the gown she was still wearing, swung her legs over the side of the bier and slid to the floor.

Okay, she ordered herself, don't panic. If this is a room, it must have a door. She glanced at the end of the room with the torches. She'd try there first.

Tia had no idea how long she'd been awake. An hour? Two? She'd discovered the door to the chamber, the edges carefully hidden in the paintings that ringed the walls. Unfortunately, she couldn't find any way to open the door. It figures, she though disgustedly. Everyone on this side of the door was supposed to be dead. The mechanism to open it must be on the other side.

She sat down on her stone bier again and looked around. There were ten of the stone biers against one of the long walls, approximately six feet apart. Except for the one she was sitting on, all were occupied. Canopic jars were displayed at the feet of each mummy. Some were made from alabaster. Some were carved from stone. A few were made from some sort of clay – glazed and painted. There were hieroglyphics carved or painted on the jars and the biers. The names of the dead, she thought, and maybe something about their lives. Against the wall opposite were various statues of the gods, some in stone, some in pottery or wood. Most had gold or silver embellishments. One stone goddess was wearing some stunning jewelry. Small tables were set with dishes of gold and silver. A few small wooden chests were filled with jewelry and small trinkets – some gold with precious gems, some carved of ivory, bone or wood. One carved and gilded box she opened contained the mummified body of a cat. Obviously no one had ever discovered this chamber. No grave robber would have left the small, easily portable valuables set around the room.

She sighed and got up. No one would ever find her either. Maybe there was something here she could use to pry open the door.

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The sun was just coming up when Evie reached the entrance to the tomb of Ramses the Great. She patted the neck of the donkey she'd stolen and slid off his back.

The stone door was firmly closed, but footprints and scuffmarks in the dirt in front of it showed that someone, or several someones had been here recently. The key embedded in the door had been brushed clean. Walking up to it, Evie turned it carefully. After a moment, the door swung inward with a groaning sound. Evie picked up the lantern she'd stolen when she'd stolen the donkey and entered the tomb.

The tomb of Ramses II began with a short ramp, and then a left turn. From here a series of long split stairways led into long corridors. The first long corridor was decorated with scenes from the Litany of Re. The second corridor depicted scenes from the Amduat. After the second stair and second corridor, Evie made her way over a makeshift bridge that spanned the Ritual Shaft. This shaft, also decorated with scenes from the Amduat, was twenty feet deep. The rather rickety wooden bridge over this had obviously been constructed within the last ten years, probably by archeologists. After the shaft, she entered the room known as the Chariot Room. A third stairway in the center of this room led down to the third and last long corridor, decorated with scenes from the Opening of the Mouth Ceremony, which finally led into the antechamber. Evie swallowed hard and looked around. The tomb was essentially empty, and had been for years. Only the wall paintings and carvings remained. Major flooding had damaged many of these decorations beyond repair. Evie went up to one of the painted scenes and ran her fingers over it. She remembered what it looked like new. Ramses had held a party in this tomb when the paintings in the antechamber and the burial chamber had been completed. Several dozen of the courtiers had been invited. For an instant she could almost see the tomb, as it had been that night – the paintings bright and colorful, lit with dozens of torches. The party guests had been resplendent in their white linen gowns and robes, wearing bright jewelry and oiled black wigs. Servants with trays of wine goblets and fruit passed among the guests.

Evie shook her head and continued from the antechamber into the large square burial chamber, where Ramses's stone sarcophagus had once stood. She was here to find Tia, not to remember the past. Several annexes opened off from the burial chamber. The one Evie wanted was the one on the wall opposite the entrance, furthest to the left. The archeologists had never discovered the chamber she was headed for. She'd petitioned the authorities in Thebes for permission to excavate, but it had not been granted. Entering the left hand annex, she moved to the far wall and examined the carvings. Even though she knew it was there, it was difficult to find. Finally her fingers traced the outline of a small, star shaped key. Pushing it in, she turned it first one way and then the other.

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Author's Notes:

The descriptions of the tomb of Ramses II are accurate as to the floor plan and the decorations on the walls. (Except of course for the annex Tia had been left in, I made that one up.)

The Amduat documents the Sun God's journey through the twelve divisions of the underworld, beginning on the western horizon and reappearing as the newborn sun in the East. Means, "that which is in the underworld".

The Litany of Re is the two-part litany of the Sun. It is used in most tombs from Seti I onward.

The mummified cat that Tia finds is something that was pretty common. The Egyptians (those who could afford it anyway) often mummified household pets, particularly cats.

Having parties in the tombs was not unusual. It was a grand opportunity to show off your wealth.

Thanks to ephona, Liel, mrsblonde1503 and eris. I'm glad people are still hanging in there!


	27. Chapter 27 Words from the Dead

Flight of Souls

Chapter 27 – Words from the Dead

A sudden groaning from the door took Tia completely by surprise. She'd been trying fruitlessly to pry the door open for some time. When the door began to swing inward, she backed up hastily, nearly tripping over the broken ceremonial spear she'd been using as a pry bar.

"Evie!" Tia exclaimed when the door opened wide enough for her to see the English woman standing there.

"Tia, you're alive!" Evie said in relief. She stepped into the chamber and flung her arms around the younger girl.

Thankfully, Tia returned her embrace. "I was afraid I would never be found."

Evie stepped back and looked around the chamber. "Do you know where you are?"

"A burial chamber," Tia said, with a slight shrug. "One that has never been robbed or despoiled apparently."

Evie smiled and stepped to the nearest sarcophagus, running her fingers lightly over its surface. "Yes, you've never been here. Ramses started building this tomb a few years after he became Pharaoh. You were dead by then."

"Ramses?"

Evie smiled. "This is an annex of the tomb of Ramses II. It's never been discovered. It's a secondary burial chamber."

"But you knew it was here?"

"Of course," Evie replied, moving to the next sarcophagus. "I've been here several times." She looked up. "This room was intended as a burial place for Ramses's children. He ended up having an entirely new tomb made for that, but several of his children or household members passed away before the new tomb was ready so they were buried here." She caressed the sarcophagus again. "This one is one of my daughters. She died when she was four."

"Oh, Evie," Tia said sympathetically. "Your own child?"

Evie smiled. "Kind of silly to be sad about it now, isn't it? It happened three thousand years ago." She moved to the next sarcophagus. "This one is one of Isa-Norfret's children."

"Isa-Norfret?"

"Ramses's second wife. I don't believe you ever met her. A nice woman, she and I got along very well." She pointed to the sarcophagus at the end. "There is someone you'd remember. Sitamen."

"Yes, I do remember her. She was one of his concubines, wasn't she?"

"Yes. She died in childbed, the child with her. They were mummified together and they're both in there."

Evie sighed again and walked along the row of coffins. "I was here for each one of the funeral processions." She stopped in front of another of the stone sarcophaguses. "You remember Khety, don't you?

"He was one of the court physicians, wasn't he?"

"Chief physician by the time of his death. He was Ramses's confidants, so when he died he was given the honor of being buried with his king." She ran her fingers over a beautifully carved cabinet beside his coffin. Idly she opened the door. "What's this?"

Tia came closer to see. "It looks like a scroll case."

"Yes," Evie said, archeological interest jolting her out of remembered grief. She took out the case and gently undid the ties holding it closed. A roll of papyrus slipped out when she tipped the case up.

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It was nearing dawn when Sir Randolph stepped aboard his yacht. He was weary, and looking forward to a few hours of sleep. Idly he glanced down the hallway as he made his way to his cabin. Suddenly he stopped, and stared at the door to the cabin the women had stayed in. The door was ajar. He went closer and looked again. The wood around the lock was splintered – the door had been jimmied. A sudden violent rage wiped away all trace of weariness. He shoved the door open and looked inside. The cabin was empty. Turning on his heel, he stalked off to find Jensen.

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"Now that I have reached the end of my life," Evie read, translating from the ancient Egyptian, "I must put down in writing what I know of the circumstances of the early days of the reign of my divine lord, Pharaoh Ramses II, although no one may see this save myself." She looked up. "Khety wrote this," she said incredulously.

"What does he mean, 'the circumstances of the early days of the reign of Ramses II?" Tia asked, coming closer to look over Evie's shoulder.

Evie continued to translate. "It begins with the arrival at court of the woman, Anck-su-namun. She was a woman of great physical beauty and Pharaoh Seti was enamored of her. Her son, Prince Horemheb was born some eighteen months after she became Pharaoh's concubine.

"I never imagined for a moment that Anck-su-namun would be so foolish as to play her Pharaoh false. Nor that the High Priest Imhotep would also be so foolish as to cast his eyes upon the mistress of the king. Yet, so they must have done. And when Pharaoh came upon them unexpectedly, they killed him. Anck-su-namun killed herself moments later. Imhotep fled the palace, taking with him the young Prince Horemheb and Princess Tiye.

"This rest I had from the lips of Pharaoh Ramses II when he returned from Hamunaptra. Prince Horemheb and Princess Tiye had been put to death. Imhotep had been sentenced to the Hom-die, and been buried at the feet of the statue Anubis in Hamunaptra. It had been Pharaoh's intention to leave the young prince and princess unburied, but Queen Nefertari intervened. Her fondness for her younger half-sister inspired her to convince her husband to bury them properly. He would not bring them back to Thebes, but consented to have them mummified and laid to rest in a small tomb some small distance from Hamunaptra. I added my own counsel to that. I remember Princess Tiye as a kind and gentle girl. No matter what she was forced to in the days after her abduction, surely in the final trial before the great gods Osiris, Anubis and Thoth, she was admitted into the blessed afterlife.

"Imhotep forced the princess to wed him, and did his best to get an heir of his body on her. A bid for the throne of Egypt, no doubt, but doomed to failure from the start. I examined her body before she was embalmed, and I think there is little doubt that she was with child. Poor girl.

"Imhotep was brought before Pharaoh Ramses before he died. In his last words he cursed Pharaoh with ten plagues, and vowed that his son would be the downfall of Pharaoh Ramses II. This disturbed Pharaoh, I think, and this was the reason for his next action.

"When Prince Horemheb was laid to rest in the tomb at Tirza, Pharaoh instructed the priests not to perform the Opening of the Mouth ritual on the young boy. He intended for the soul of the child to remain trapped so that the boy could be no threat to him.

"Imhotep believed that Prince Horemheb was his own son, not that of Pharaoh Seti, and so he told Pharaoh Ramses. I wish that I had known this before, for I could have told him the truth. It is impossible for Imhotep to have been Horemheb's father. About six months after Anck-su-namun arrived at court, Imhotep returned to Thebes after some years in the north. He had contracted a severe illness while he was away, and sought me out when he returned for treatment. While he regained strength quickly, he continued to use the potions I prescribed for several months. While these potions do not affect sexual performance or desire, they do affect fertility. It would have been impossible for Imhotep to father a child during the time Prince Horemheb was conceived. The boy was indeed the son of Pharaoh Seti.

"Had I but known that Imhotep and Anck-su-namun were lovers and that Imhotep believed that Horemheb was his own child, I could perhaps have saved Princess Tiye and the boy. If Imhotep had known the truth he would never have taken them with him, and they would not have been killed. I did not tell Pharaoh Ramses this truth. Should I have, I wonder? They were dead by then, his half brother and sister. I go to my grave wondering, and begging Ma'at, goddess of truth, to forgive me."

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Author's Note:

Ramses had word started on his tomb in the second year of his reign, and it was completed six years later. A much larger tomb was built for his children. To date it is only partially excavated, but they've discovered four of his sons – the eldest, Amun-her-khepseshef (by Nefertari), the second known as Ramses Jr (by Isa-Norfret), the 9th – Sethy and the 16th – Mery-Atum. They expect to find many more of the sons and some of the daughters before they're done. Anyone buried in the secondary burial chamber in this story is completely made up. It made sense to me that if the large tomb wasn't done, then some of the children who died early might have been buried in an annex of their father's tomb. Considering the lack of modern medicine, I figure there would be several children who died young. It also made sense to me that other household members might be buried there as well, so I went with it.

I have no idea if there is any sort of potion that would affect a man's fertility.

Thank you for the reviews, eris, Lometari, Liel and lilylynn. I appreciate them very much. And ephona, yes, there will be fluff upcoming, just not right yet.


	28. Chapter 28 Trapped Inside

Flight of Souls 

**Chapter 28 – Trapped Inside**

"I don't understand," Robert said despairingly, gazing at the empty dock where his father's yacht was usually tied up when he was in Thebes. "If he isn't here, I can't imagine where he is."

Rick and Ardeth exchanged glances. "I've got some contacts here," Rick said, "and I'm sure you do too." Ardeth nodded. "We'll be able to find out if Varne was ever here."

"Master Robert?" The men looked up to see a stout woman several feet behind them. "Master Robert? What are you doing here?"

"Mrs. Waverly?" Robert rushed over and took her hands. "I'm looking for my father's yacht, I expected him to be here."

"Oh no," Mrs. Waverly answered warmly. "He docked on the west bank this time. Heavens knows why," she chuckled.

Robert glanced quickly at Rick and Ardeth who had come up to stand a few feet behind him. "Tell me, Mrs. Waverly. Does Father have any guests aboard?"

"Why yes," she said, "Two very pretty young ladies. Mrs. O'Connell dined with Sir Randolph every evening, but Miss DeWitt was unwell and spent all her time in her room. Motion sickness, you know," she confided.

"Marvelous," Robert said. "The west bank you say?"

"Yes, Master Robert. I'm just over here buying supplies. You know how your father likes his dinner."

"Indeed I do," he said with a smile. As the woman moved off, he explained to his companions. "She does the cooking aboard the yacht."

"So the women are aboard," Rick said with relief.

Ardeth wasted no time. A quick conversation with the owner of a small fishing boat resulted in the man agreeing to ferry them across the Nile. "Y'Allah. Let's go."

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Sir Randolph's driver stopped the car as close as he could get to the tomb of Ramses II. Sir Randolph got out and headed for the tomb, motioning for his driver to follow. As he had half expected, the door was ajar. She was here, he thought savagely. The ungrateful bitch! "Guard the door," he snapped at the driver. "Make sure no one comes out until I get back." Striking a match, he lit the torch he'd brought and entered the tomb.

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Evie and Tia slowly walked along the third long corridor and started up the staircase that led to the Chariot room. "We'll have to try to get to my dig site near the Valley of Queens," Evie said, "I've got clothes there and some money."

Tia nodded. She started to speak, but broke off abruptly. "Evie, do you hear that?"

"Someone's coming," Evie hissed. "Dear God, it must be Varne. He must have found me missing."

"What are we going to do now?"

As Sir Randolph stalked down the corridor, he caught a faint glimpse of the glow of Evie's lantern. "Nefertari? You faithless bitch!" A string of curses in ancient Egyptian followed.

"Come on," Evie hissed, grasping Tia by the arm. "There's another way out."

The two women ran down the stairs and back down the third corridor back through the antechamber into the burial chamber. "What do you mean another way out?" Tia gasped.

Evie made for the first small annex on the right. "This tomb is prone to flooding. The workmen made an escape tunnel just in case they were trapped in here. I caught them at it when I was here to oversee preparations for one of the funerals. Ramses never knew about it. I never told him, he would have been furious." She yanked Tia after her into the annex. "If I can just find the catch." Her fingers ran swiftly over the wall. "It's got to be here somewhere." Finally she felt the small lever hidden in the carvings. "Here it is." She pulled the latch and shoved the door open. "Quickly!"

Tia saw the glow of Sir Randolph's torch enter the burial chamber. "Too late!"

"Not for you," Evie said in a fierce whisper. She shoved Tia through the door and shut it behind her. Then she kicked over her lantern, plunging the small room into darkness.

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Tia stood for a moment in pitch darkness in shock, and then she frantically searched the wall in front of her for the catch to open the door. Damn it! Why did she always end up on the wrong side of locked doors? Nothing. That figures, she thought. They'd need the escape route to get out. They wouldn't want anyone else, like grave robbers, to be able to get in. There would be no getting back into the tomb. The only thing to do was to find the way to the outside, then come back in the entrance to help Evie.

She groped at the walls all around her. She seemed to be in a tiny room, about two and a half feet square. Now what? Then her fingers found the indentations in the wall to her right. Cut into the rock at regular intervals were long niches, perhaps eight inches wide and two inches deep. She put her fingers into one. It felt like the rung of a ladder. Of course! The escape tunnel went up. The workmen had carved a ladder into the rock wall. Hitching up her satin skirt, she started to climb, praying that the tunnel was still intact all the way to the surface.

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Evie crouched in the darkness, watching the flickering light from Sir Randolph's torch as it crossed the main burial chamber. He was headed for the secondary burial chamber where he'd left Tia. Good. Once he disappeared into that annex she should be able to sneak past into the corridor again.

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When the three men had reached the yacht, they'd found it nearly abandoned, except for Sir Randolph's manservant.

"Jensen, where's my father?" Robert demanded.

Jensen flinched visibly. "I think he must have gone to the tomb again," he said in a quavering voice.

"What tomb," Ardeth asked icily.

"Ramses II," Jensen replied, visibly shrinking away from the Medjai.

"Why would he go there?" Ardeth said, his voice even colder than before.

"Well, because that's where the women are, I think." Jensen looked beseechingly at Robert. "He's gone mad, Master Robert. I don't know what to do!"

"Not to worry, Jensen, " Robert said. "We'll take care of it." He turned to Rick. "Do you know where the tomb is?"

"Yes." Rick said quickly. "I've been there before."

"Right then. Let's go."

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Author's Note:

The escape tunnel is also my invention, but Ramses's tomb IS prone to flooding, which is one of the reasons there is very little left. Most of the paintings have at least partially flaked off the walls.

Thank you ephona and mrsblonde1503. I'm pleased you like the story enough to keep checking for the updates. Mommints, I'm glad you're back after a long absence. I just got your reviews for Chapters 3 & 4; I hope you read the rest. Welcome Shahrezadi! I'm flattered.


	29. Chapter 29 Escape

Flight of Souls

Chapter 29 – Escape

The rock ladder she was climbing soon slanted to nearly a 45-degree angle, making it much easier to climb. Still, Tia's fingers were raw from the rough stone. She though several times of ditching the high heeled satin shoes she was wearing, but the thought of her toes ending up in the same condition as her fingers kept her from doing it. The flimsy satin wasn't much protection from the stone, but it was better than nothing.

She didn't know how long this was taking. Too long, she suspected. She braced her back against the opposite wall of the tunnel, ignoring the way the rough stone scraped against her bare back. Just a few moments of rest and she'd continue on. After a minute or two, she shifted her weight back and continued to climb, scraping her shoulder in the process. I'll bet none of those workmen thought about climbing this ladder in a low cut satin gown, she thought savagely. I'd sell my soul just about now for a pair of trousers and a long sleeved shirt, not to mention a decent pair of shoes.

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Evie eased from her hiding place when she could no longer see Sir Randolph's torch. Unfortunately, since she'd extinguished her lantern, she could no longer see anything. The darkness was absolute. Trying to move silently, she traced her fingers along the wall, groping her way into the main burial chamber.

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Rick drove the small car through the Valley of Kings. There was a road of sorts, intended for donkeys and the odd tourist. It was very rocky though, and he kept scraping the undercarriage of the car. A larger car or a jeep might have managed okay, but the little compact car wasn't doing well.

"I can't believe you stole this car," Robert said from the back seat.

"Borrowed," Rick corrected. "I borrowed this car. We'll bring it back."

"There won't be anything left of it," Robert said in disgust. "If you crash it, we'll have to walk the rest of the way."

"Should have borrowed a bigger car," Ardeth observed dispassionately.

"There wasn't one available." Rick said, swerving around a large pothole. "If you think you could do better, you drive."

Ardeth shrugged. "How hard can it be?"

"You've never driven a car before?"

"Why would I need to drive a car? You can't get to my home with one."

Rick cocked his head, and swerved in the other direction to avoid a large rock. "Never thought of that."

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After what seemed like forever, Tia finally saw a faint glow of daylight ahead. The tunnel leveled out for the last fifty yards or so. She crawled to the end of the tunnel and looked out. The opening was about eight feet from the ground, and appeared to be in an alcove in the rock. She shifted around and lowered herself feet first, then let herself drop.

The driver guarding the door of the tomb was bored out of his mind. He'd been up all night transporting Sir Randolph, a body wrapped in a blanket and several of Varne's henchmen to this very place. No sooner had they finally gotten back to the yacht, but Sir Randolph had called him out again. So here he was, in the middle of nowhere. He considered crawling into the back seat of the car and taking a nap, but was afraid of Sir Randolph coming out and catching him asleep. Grumpily he slouched against the rock near the entrance to the tomb. His employer was a loon. Why would anyone want to spend all night in an ancient Egyptian tomb? It gave him the creeps. Disconsolately he surveyed the surrounding rock walls of the valley.

He was just about to return to the car when he heard a muffled thud and a small cry of pain. Puzzled, he looked around. The sounds had come from a small impression in the rock not far from the tomb entrance. Curious, he walked over to see what the disturbance was. The sight in front of him made him drop his jaw in astonishment.

Tia's breath hissed in as she gingerly felt her ankle. She'd twisted it falling from the tunnel to the ground. Carefully she rotated the foot. It wasn't broken, probably just a slight sprain. She started to push herself to her feet when she froze in horror. Staring at her, mouth agape, was an Arabic man in a chauffeur's uniform. Ohmigod, she thought frantically. This must be Varne's driver. He had a gun in a holster on his belt. He must double as a bodyguard, she thought.

The driver stared at her in bemusement. Now this was something! The girl's fair skin and blond hair looked extremely exotic to a man used to women with dark hair and skin. The snug satin gown was low cut, and the skirt was tumbled around her thighs, showing shapely legs and sexy high-heeled shoes.

Tia cursed under her breath and got to her feet, twitching the dress so that her legs were covered. Unfortunately, she couldn't do much about the neckline.

Even dusty and disheveled as she undoubtedly was, she probably looked like something out of a girly magazine. Did they have girly magazines in Muslim countries? Now this man was leering at her. Fabulous. She wasn't going to be able to run on her sprained ankle, particularly on this rocky ground. She was going to have to think of something else. Summoning up her courage, she smiled invitingly at the man.

The driver smiled in delight and advanced on Tia. She was a fantasy come true. He'd take her over to the car, and to hell with Sir Randolph.

Tia put out a hand and trailed it coyly down his throat to his shoulder. Her other hand brushed down his chest toward the gun at his waist. She lost her balance and fell against him as he jerked her toward him, but managed to laugh lightly and regain her feet. She gritted her teeth behind her smile as she endured his rough groping. Her hand again stroked down his body toward the gun. If she could just get it out of the holster! She leaned into him and nipped the edge of his jaw, hoping it would distract him enough that he wouldn't notice. Carefully she eased the gun free. Quickly she pushed against his chest with her free hand and stepped back, bringing the gun up. The man realized what she was doing at the last moment, and brought his own hand up to grab hers.

The sound of a gunshot echoed through the rocky valley.

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Thank you for reviewing, Lometari, mrsblonde1503 and ephona!

ladyRivendell, as to your question, Robert Varne is the reincarnation of Tiye and Imhotep's unborn child, not Horemheb. Sorry, I guess I wasn't clear enough.


	30. Chapter 30 Saving Tia

Flight of Souls

Chapter 30 – Saving Tia

Sir Randolph impatiently opened the door to the secondary burial chamber where some of the children and household members of Ramses II had been laid. A quick glance at the bier where Tia had been laid showed that it was now empty. With a snarl of rage, he strode the length of the room, searching each dark corner to be sure that neither woman was hiding there.

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Evie felt her way along the wall, trying to remember the layout of the tomb. She was out of the small annex and in the main burial chamber. If she continued along the left hand wall, she would reach the doorway into the antechamber. From there, keeping her left hand on the wall, she could feel her way around to the third corridor, which would lead directly to the third stairway. The problem would be in the Chariot Room. The stairway came up through the center of the floor. There would be no wall to guide her at that point. If she could keep her bearings, she could head straight into the second long corridor, provided she could get over the Ritual Shaft without falling in.

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The car had taken them as far as it could. Rick turned off the ignition and the three men climbed out. "How much farther?" Ardeth asked in clipped tones.

"Not much," Rick replied. "Half a mile, more or less." He gestured toward the track. "Another car has been here recently." He smirked humorlessly. "But it had better tires than we did."

They started up the track, but had gone no more than fifty yards when they heard the sound of the gunshot.

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The now infuriated driver dragged Tia out of the small alcove they'd been in. The gun had gone off when the driver had grabbed at her hand, and the shot had done nothing more than chip the rock face near the entrance to the tunnel. Desperately Tia struggled, but she was at a severe disadvantage. Like her sister Nefertari, Tiye had been taught the basics in hand-to-hand fighting, but unlike Nefertari, she'd shown little aptitude for it and had soon abandoned the pursuit. Tiye had preferred music, poetry and caring for small children. They were admirable pursuits, but not particularly helpful at the moment.

Tia tripped over a rock and fell, dragging her captor down with her. His grip on her wrist loosened for a moment, and she wrenched out of his grasp. She managed to get up, but only took one step before he grabbed her ankle and jerked her feet out from under her. She fell heavily onto the ground, her face coming into hard contact with the rocky ground. Pain radiated from her cheekbone and seemed to reverberate through her head. A hard hand grasped her arm and flipped her onto her back. The driver straddled her, one knee on either side of her hips. One of his hands hand went to her throat, the other tore at the bodice of the gold satin gown. She braced her feet on the ground and tried to throw him off, but he took hold of her throat with both hands, lifted and then slammed her back against the ground. Dazed and gasping for air, she clawed feebly at the hands on her throat.

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After a moment's stunned stillness, Ardeth and Rick ran up the track toward the sound of the shot, Robert trailing behind. Ardeth reached the area before the tomb of Ramses the Great first, and saw the man and woman struggling on the ground. As he watched, the man lifted the woman by the throat and slammed her down onto the ground, her blond hair trailing in the dust. A violent wave of rage swept over him, and he was scarcely aware of crossing the ground toward them. The man looked up at the last moment, but hadn't time to do more than flinch before the enraged Medjai grabbed him and flung him to the ground. The dagger seemed to leap into Ardeth's hand of its own accord, and before either man realized it; it was buried to the hilt in the driver's chest.

Tia rolled to her hands and knees, then got shakily to her feet, her hands clutching together the torn scraps of her bodice. She watched Ardeth stand and turn from the man he'd just killed. The face he turned toward her was so full of violent rage that she scarcely recognized him, and she flinched when the black eyes fixed on her.

Another surge of anger ripped through him when he saw her. The skin of her arms and shoulders was scraped and bruised, and there was a large scrape on her cheek that was bleeding sluggishly. The skin around it was already turning purple. Marks from the driver's fingers marred her throat. The golden eyes were wide and terrified. She was attempting to hold together the ruin of her dress, but it was hopeless. The bodice was in too many pieces. Ardeth tugged off his robe and advanced on her, his teeth gritting when she shrank away from him. "Here," he said brusquely, swinging the robe around her. "Cover yourself." He kept his hands on her shoulders and looked into her face. "Are you hurt?" She didn't answer right away and he lifted her chin to look her straight in the eye. "Did he hurt you?"

She tried to smile. "Scrapes and bruises. Nothing serious."

He gave her a tiny shake. "Good. Don't fear me, Tia," he said seriously. "I will never hurt you."

She smiled again, a little more successfully this time. Glancing over Ardeth's shoulder she saw Rick O'Connell. "Evie is in the tomb." She glanced up at Ardeth again. "Sir Randolph is with her. He's gone crazy!"

Rick nodded curtly and picked up a torch from a pile near the tomb entrance. "Is he alone?"

"I don't know. We heard him shouting, but I never saw him."

"Is he armed?"

"Again, I don't know." Tia replied. "I'm sorry Rick. I'm not much help."

"Not to worry." Rick lit the torch and pulled out one of his guns with the other hand. "Come on, Ardeth, let's go."

Ardeth released his grip on Tia, and went back to the dead driver. With one swift movement, he pulled his dagger free and wiped it on the dead man's shirt. "Stay out here where it's safe," he said. "Varne, stay with her." He tightened the sash around his waist and thrust the dagger into its sheath. Like Rick, he picked up a torch and lit it. The two men disappeared into the tomb.

Varne? Bewildered, Tia looked around to see Robert Varne standing not far away, looking indecisive. "Rob?"

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Thank you for the reviews, Paperclip Princess and scarlet witch. Glad you're enjoying the story! Hope you continue to do so.


	31. Chapter 31 Saving Evie

Flight of Souls

Chapter 31 – Saving Evie

Varne? Bewildered, Tia looked around to see Robert Varne standing not far away, looking indecisive. "Rob?"

"Tia?" He looked aghast at the sight of her. "Good God, Tia, you look dreadful!"

"Thanks," she said dryly.

He flushed slightly. "There's probably a first aid kit in my father's car," he said. "Wait a minute while I get it."

Sir Randolph's car was about forty yards away down a slight hill. Tia sat wearily down on a large rock and waited for him. He handed her the kit when he came back. "What are you doing here?" Tia asked, opening the kit and rummaging through it. Robert stood there looking unsure of himself.

"A combination of kidnapping and rescue mission, I think," he replied. "Ardeth Bey insisted I come along. At sword point, actually." He nervously glanced at the tomb entrance. "You say my father is in there?"

"Yes," she replied, taking a roll of bandage and a small pair of scissors out of the kit.

"Did he really try to kill you?"

Tia snipped off a length of bandage, took off her shoe and started to wrap her ankle. "Twice. This last time he drugged me, then left me laid out for burial in that tomb."

"Maybe there's some mistake," Rob said desperately.

Tia shot him a look of pity, and then started looking through the kit again. The blow to her face had triggered a nasty headache. "Is there any aspirin in here?"

"What will O'Connell and Bey do to him?"

Again, Tia didn't answer. She had recognized the look on Ardeth's face when he entered the tomb. It was the same cold, merciless look that had been on his face when she'd first seen him at Tirza; with a hint of the vicious rage he'd shown minutes earlier when he'd killed the driver. She didn't know Rick O'Connell very well, but from what she knew of him from Evie, he had a streak of that same controlled violence in him, however well hidden by his habitual friendliness. In her opinion, Sir Randolph Varne didn't stand a chance.

Tia found the aspirin and swallowed two tablets with a swig of water from a bottle packed with the kit. "I'm sure Rick O'Connell just wants his wife back safe, Rob," she said quietly. After all, that wasn't completely a lie. "There's nothing you can do."

"I can't just stand around here while they murder my father," Rob stated. "I'm going in." He started for the tomb entrance.

"No, wait!" Tia stood aghast as he disappeared into the darkness. She stood for a moment looking after him, then sank back down on the rock she'd been sitting on before. Now what? If Rob interfered, she was certain that Ardeth would kill him. Rick might hesitate, but Ardeth would not.

If she went after him, she might be able to keep him away from the conflict until it was over. Did she care so much about Rob, she wondered? No. She didn't want to see him dead, but she also didn't want him to interfere with whatever Ardeth and Rick were going to do with Sir Randolph. You've gotten callous, living in the desert, she thought wryly.

Ardeth told you to stay here, she said to herself firmly. You'll only be in the way if you go in there. After all, she thought bitterly, when have you ever done anything but wait for someone else to rescue you? You've been captured by Arab tribesmen, kidnapped again by a lunatic with delusions of grandeur, drugged and abandoned in an ancient tomb, then nearly raped. And in your past life, you were no better, she thought savagely. You were abducted, forced into marriage and then poisoned.

"That's it," she said aloud. "I'm done with being a victim." She looked down at the ruined high-heeled shoe. Nothing would make her put that damn thing on again. Instead she took the roll of bandage from the first aid kit and wrapped both her feet. Not very elegant, but it would protect her against the small sharp rocks that littered the tomb. Another strip of bandage served to belt Ardeth's oversized robe around her. The driver's gun was still on the ground in the alcove where it had fallen. Retrieving it, she tried to check to see if it was loaded, but didn't know how. If I get out of this, she thought to herself. I'm going to learn how to shoot this wretched thing. There was one last torch on the ground. It took only a moment to light it, and then she was ready.

Sir Randolph stalked out of the secondary burial chamber. The women weren't in there. No matter. He'd search the other annexes off the main burial chamber and work his way up to the surface. Even if he didn't find them himself, he'd flush them toward the entrance where his driver would stop them. It shouldn't take long. Except for the secondary burial chamber that he'd already searched, the tomb consisted of empty rooms. There was nowhere to hide.

Evie made her way up the third stairway into the Chariot room. When she reached the top of the stairs she dropped to her hands and knees to feel along the floor. If she hadn't gotten disorientated, the bridge over the Ritual Shaft should be directly in front of her. A quick glance over her shoulder, however, showed the faint but growing glow of torchlight. Sir Randolph was coming up the corridor and he'd be on the stairs in moments. There wasn't time to grope her way slowly over the bridge. If she made a mistake she would fall. A fall of twenty feet to a rocky floor could injure her badly. To the left of the Chariot room on this level was a large, square room with four pillars in it. As quietly as she could she felt her way into this room and crouched behind the first pillar she came to. The torchlight grew brighter.

Ardeth and Rick carefully made their way down the first stairway and first corridor, each with a torch in his left hand and a weapon in his right. The last thing Ardeth had wanted to do was leave Tia alone with Robert Varne. She was bound to be shaky and shocked after the near rape and the sight of Ardeth's swift and efficient knifing of the would-be rapist. He was sufficiently a man of his culture to not wish to leave his woman alone with any man. Added to that, he'd had to leave her at a time when she would be emotionally vulnerable in the company of a man she'd favored in the past. Let it go, he ordered himself. No use thinking about it now. Now was the time to think about Sir Randolph Varne and Evelyn O'Connell.

Sir Randolph reached the Chariot room and looked around. His eyes froze suddenly on the ground. To the left of the stairway, and leading into the pillared room on the left was a trail in the dust. A slow smiled spread over his face. He looked into the room and saw nothing but the shadowy pillars in the torchlight. Hiding behind the pillars, were they?

Evie watched in horror as he came closer to her. He would see her in a moment if she didn't move. If she did move, he'd see her even sooner. "I know you're in here," he purred menacingly. He pulled out a gun. "Come out and I won't shoot you."

Making a sudden decision, Evie stepped into the flickering torchlight. "I'm here, Sir Randolph."

He smiled; an expression that might have been charming had his eyes not been so cold. "Where is Tiye?"

"I don't know. We were separated." Which was true, as far as it went.

"Nefertari, my love, you've been disobedient," he said silkily, walking toward her slowly. "Did I not tell you not to concern yourself with her?"

"She's my sister, my lord," Evie replied, backing up a few steps. "I cannot turn my back on her." Her past experience on the yacht with Sir Randolph had taught her that if his mind was firmly in the past, she was better off taking the role of Nefertari rather than trying to shift his focus to the present. "She is but a child, my lord. Can you not forgive her?"

"She is a whore," Sir Randolph said coldly. "She has betrayed me, soiled herself with that blasphemous priest." He blinked then. "Or was it with that Medjai commander….?" His face suddenly seemed uncertain and he shook his head slightly.

Evie saw her chance. Quickly she lashed out with her hand, knocking the gun to the floor. She followed it up with a punch that landed a few inches above his belt buckle. Sir Randolph doubled over, dropping the torch onto the ground. Evie fled, the light from the downed torch just enough to see her way into the Chariot room and to catch a glimpse of the bridge over the Ritual Shaft.

Author's Note:

So here I am on Christmas Eve, updating my story. Well, I have to do something to keep me awake until the kids are asleep enough for me to put the presents under the tree. Merry Christmas, everyone!

Thank you for reviewing lilylynn and mrsblonde1503. I'm glad to know you're still reading. And josephine, not to worry about 'quality' reviews. Just knowing someone actually wants to read this is rewarding enough.


	32. Chapter 32 End in the Tomb

Flight of Souls

Chapter 32 – End in the Tomb

Sir Randolph snatched up the gun from where it lay a few feet from him, and forced himself upright and after the fleeing woman. He caught her a few feet from the bridge, grasping a handful of the voluminous dress. The fabric tore, but the garment held, and Sir Randolph gave a vicious yank that jerked Evie off her feet. She screamed as she hit the ground hard.

Ardeth and Rick were halfway down the second stairway when they heard the scream. Heedless of the uneven footing and the small rocks littering the passageway, they ran down the rest of the stairs and sprinted toward the sound. One after the other they ran over the bridge, which shifted ominously under their weight.

Sir Randolph heard them coming and hauled Evie to her feet, swinging her around in front of him and holding the gun to her temple. Rick's eyes widened in sudden horror, then narrowed as he stepped to one side of the bridge, his own gun ready. Ardeth stepped to the other side, his sword in guard position.

Sir Randolph smiled evilly. "Lord Ardeth, how pleasant to see you again."

Ardeth nodded curtly. "Varne."

Sir Randolph's gaze shifted to Rick. "And this must be the intrepid Mr. O'Connell. Remiss of you not to introduce me, Medjai."

"I can't think where my manners are," Ardeth replied silkily, coming a few steps closer, his eyes glittering black in the flickering torchlight.

"Stay back," Sir Randolph ordered.

"You don't dare hurt her," Rick said coldly. "If you do, you won't last a minute and you know it."

"Your man at the entrance of the tomb is dead," Ardeth said. "You have no where to go, Varne."

"Are you so anxious to lose your precious wife, O'Connell?" Sir Randolph mocked. "Drop your weapons, gentlemen." When they hesitated he jerked his arm roughly against Evie's throat, causing her to choke. "Do it now!" Reluctantly, Rick dropped his gun onto the stone floor of the tomb. "All of them!" Sir Randolph snapped. Rick gritted his teeth and pulled out his other guns, dropping them as well. Ardeth, following Rick's lead, dropped his sword and at Sir Randolph's raised eyebrow, discarded his dagger as well.

"Very good, gentlemen," Sir Randolph said. "Now very slowly, move away from the bridge." Seething, the two men complied. Sir Randolph had taken a few steps toward the bridge, yanking Evie with him, when they heard the sound of more footsteps and the flicker of another torch.

Robert Varne hadn't been very far into the tomb when he heard the faint scream somewhere ahead. He'd never been in this tomb before, and was afraid to run, but he made his way down the stairs and corridors as fast as he dared. He saw the torchlight ahead in the Chariot room and cautiously made his way over the bridge. "Father, what are you doing?" he called incredulously.

"Robert," Sir Randolph said in astonishment. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come after you," Robert answered, his eyes flicking wildly from the sight of his urbane father holding a woman at gunpoint, and the two men standing tensely to one side. "Father, let her go."

"Don't be ridiculous," Sir Randolph snapped. "Pick up the weapons on the ground. I need to dispose of these two."

Robert ignored that and stepped closer to Sir Randolph. "Father, please. Let the woman go. Nothing good can come of this. I beg of you, let her go. I'll take you back to the yacht and we'll head back to Cairo." His eyes met Ardeth's briefly, beseeching.

"You're a fool, Robert," Sir Randolph snarled. "They'll kill both of us. Now pick up those guns!"

Tia cautiously peered from her spot near the wall on the other side of the bridge, and carefully slid her torch into a bracket on the wall. No one had noticed her presence yet. If she could just get Ardeth's attention…

A flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye caused Ardeth to glance quickly toward the bridge. There was more light than there should be. Another torch? Was that a flash of gold satin? He looked back toward Sir Randolph. He was looking toward Robert, so Ardeth risked taking a longer look toward the bridge. Tia crouched in the shadows with a gun in her hand. She caught his eye and gestured with the gun toward the ceiling. He jerked his head in an almost imperceptive nod and stealthily reached out to touch Rick's sleeve. They exchanged quick glances. Be ready.

Tia pointed the gun toward the ceiling and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot was deafening in the confined space. Sir Randolph's head snapped up. Robert jumped, but his reflexes were quicker than either Ardeth or Rick had given him credit for, and he grabbed his father's hand and forced the gun away from Evie's head. Rick darted forward, grabbed Evie's wrist, and yanked her away from Sir Randolph's hold. She fell onto the ground, gasping for breath, and he dragged her quickly away. Father and son were fighting for possession of the gun. Ardeth snatched up his sword and headed for the two men when another gunshot echoed through the room.

For a moment, no one moved. Then Sir Randolph slumped to the ground and Robert staggered back, the gun in his hand.

Ardeth strode forward, sword raised, but it was unnecessary. Sir Randolph was dead. Robert backed up until his back hit a pillar, and he slumped to the ground, his eyes wide and horrified. Catching sight of the gun he held, he flung it from him and buried his face in his hands.

--

Rick released his hold on Evie and came forward to look at the body. "Tell me,"  
he said to Ardeth. "Could that wound have been self-inflicted?"

Ardeth looked at him, puzzled. "Self-inflicted?"

Evie came forward. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Rick grinned and pulled her against him again. "Indeed I am."

Evie laughed shakily and hugged him back. Then her eyes fell on Ardeth and widened appreciatively. "My, my," she murmured, taking in the sleek bronzed skin and muscular arms revealed by the shirtless Medjai. Several tattooed symbols on his chest seemed almost to move in the flickering light.

Rick glanced at his friend and groaned. "Christ, Ardeth. Put a shirt on, will ya?"

Ardeth smiled at Tia, who moved hesitantly over the bridge into the Chariot room. "I lent it out, sorry."

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Thanks mrsblonde1503, Shahrezad1, lilylynn and Lometari! There's a few more chapters to come. Stay tuned!


	33. Chapter 33 What Now?

Flight of Souls

Chapter 33 – What Now?

"Would you like some more?" Tia started slightly at Evie's question and smiled a refusal. The canned stew was far less appetizing than the gourmet meal Tia had eaten nearly twenty-four hours ago aboard Sir Randolph's yacht, but she'd eaten heartily. Now she felt dull and sleepy. They were seated under an awning at the dig site the O'Connells had abandoned the week before. The diggers weren't back from their two-week leave yet, but the tents and supplies were still there.

Tia glanced around the group. Ardeth sat immediately to her right, once again wearing his black robe. Evie had given Tia some of her clothing to wear, so she'd returned the Medjai warrior's robe to him. Rick sat in a low camp chair, a glass of scotch in his hand. Evie sat on the ground next to him, her shoulder leaning against his leg. Both seemed relaxed and content. Evie's left eye showed a faint trace of purple – a souvenir from the blow she'd received aboard Sir Randolph's yacht.

Tia's own black eye wasn't precisely faint. Her right cheekbone was the center of a large and colorful bruise that extended around her right eye. In addition she had several bruises around her throat, and a multitude of minor scrapes and cuts on her back, shoulders, arms and hands. She considered herself lucky. Scrapes and bruises would quickly heal.

Robert Varne sat on another camp chair, slightly apart from the others. He did not seem content and relaxed. He'd scarcely spoken a word since they'd left the tomb, and now merely picked at his stew.

There had been quite a bit of 'clean up' work at the tomb before they'd left. Rick and Ardeth had carried Sir Randolph's body to the secondary burial chamber, leaving him on the bier that he'd previously left Tia on. They'd arranged his hands and the gun so that it appeared to be suicide. The door to the secondary burial chamber was then left slightly ajar so that it would be discovered before too long. Tia and Evie had cleaned up the blood in the Chariot room as best they could. No point in staging a suicide and then having someone get curious about blood in another area of the tomb. After dealing with the dead Sir Randolph, Rick and Ardeth disposed of the body of the driver, with Tia and Evie again cleaning up or at least covering over any traces of blood. During all this work, Robert Varne had sat disconsolately in the car, earning the exasperation of the other men.

Tia felt for him. Even though Robert and his father had never gotten along, she was sure he was wracked with guilt over accidentally shooting him. She itched to comfort him, but was unsure if she should. Ardeth's demeanor toward Robert was one of cold contempt, and Tia was reluctant to cause problems.

In addition, she wasn't at all sure of how she should act toward Ardeth. Would he take her back to the desert after this, or would he wash his hands of her? Which would she prefer? She scarcely knew him after all. They'd spent very little time together. Most of what she knew of him, she knew from his mother. Aren't mothers supposed to be biased toward their children?

Ardeth too felt unsure. He saw Rick and Evie sitting together. She was leaning comfortably against him, and his hand lay casually on her shoulder. From the time they'd left the tomb, he'd seen numerous small gestures of affection – looks, touches, and kisses. It made him envious. He wanted to put his arm around Tia's shoulders and pull her against him, but he'd seen the furtive glances she'd sent toward Robert Varne. Did she still desire that puppy? He knew if he reached out to Tia, she would acquiesce. But would it be sincere acceptance of his attentions or would it be just an effort to please the man who held her future in his hands? Or did he? If she asked to stay with the O'Connells, or (God forbid) with Varne, could he deny her? Should he?

Rick glanced at the two of them sitting stiffly side-by-side and wanted to shake them both. Ah well. It'll sort itself out, he thought. Since he couldn't comprehend how any woman in her right mind could possibly choose a boy like Robert over a man like Ardeth, he had no doubt of the eventual outcome. To distract them, he gave voice to a nagging doubt he'd been feeling. "So what's to keep our friend Sir Randolph, or Ramses rather, from being reincarnated again?"

Evie frowned and turned her head to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"Well, he was reincarnated without benefit of the Book of the Dead, magic bracelets or any other mumbo jumbo," Rick explained. "What's to keep it from happening again?"

"Most reincarnation happens without benefit of any 'mumbo jumbo' as you put it," Evie explained. "The Scorpion King wasn't actually reincarnated, if you recall, since he was never actually really dead. And Imhotep's soul hadn't been free to travel because of the curse."

"I suppose the 'mumbo jumbo' isn't necessary for ordinary souls," Tia said, "since both Evie and I were reincarnated without that."

"So there's nothing to keep Randolph from coming back?" Rick asked.

"Not Sir Randolph," said Evie slowly. "Ramses. He's the one we need to worry about. It's his soul that's the problem."

"So what can we do about Ramses's soul? Anything?"

Tia frowned and looked at Evie. "You kept that scroll, didn't you?" she asked. "Didn't it talk about trapping souls?"

"Your right!" Evie exclaimed excitedly. She sat up abruptly, knocking Rick's hand off her shoulder. "The Opening of the Mouth ceremony! It was never done on Horemheb, so his soul was trapped!"

"Horem-who?" Rick asked, bewildered.

"Listen to this," Evie said. She pulled out the scroll and read aloud.

"Okay," said Rick slowly. "So the kid Imhotep thought was his was actually Seti's after all, but Ramses had the kid's soul trapped so that it couldn't be a danger to him. Do I have this right?"

"Yes, that's right," Evie replied enthusiastically.

"So I guess the second part of the curse came true as well." Ardeth put in, looking at Robert. "The part about the soul of Imhotep's son being a danger to Ramses."

Robert looked startled. "What?"

"You are apparently the reincarnation of Princess Tiye's unborn child," Rick said to him.

He looked stunned. "I am?"

Evie and Tia exchanged surprised looks. "He is?"

"Tell them about that night in London," Rick prompted. Robert looked mystified, but complied.

"You see," Rick explained. "That makes you Imhotep's son, and the one who was destined to be the downfall of Ramses II. You get it? You're the one who shot Sir Randolph. You are the one that caused the downfall of Ramses's current incarnation."

"Now that we have our reincarnations sorted out," Ardeth said dryly, "is there anything we can do to trap Ramses's soul? He was, after all, mummified properly."

"Yes," Evie said, "but if we reverse the Opening of the Mouth ceremony, we might be able to trap it, much as Horemheb's soul was trapped."

"Wouldn't we need his mummy to do that?" Tia asked. "Where is his mummy, anyway?"

"Right here in Thebes," Evie said promptly. "His mummy was removed from its tomb in ancient times because of grave robbers, and hidden along with several others. It was found in 1881."

"There is a facility near the temple built by Queen Hatshepsut in Deir el-Bahri where some scientists are studying the mummies," Ardeth explained. "Eventually, I understand, they will be moved to the Museum of Antiquities in Cairo."

Evie nodded. "Deir el-Bahri is north of here, pretty close to Ramses's tomb as a matter of fact."

"Okay," Rick said, "So we need to get into the room where they're storing the mummies and stage some sort of Closing of the Mouth ceremony, right?"

"Right," Evie confirmed, then went on. "But we have to do it tonight."

"Tonight?" Rick objected. "Why tonight?"

"The Egyptians believed that the soul is released at death and flies around the world during the day, but comes back to the body at night," Ardeth explained. "If we want to trap it inside the mummy, we need to do it at night."

"Why tonight?" Rick lamented. "Can't we wait until tomorrow night?"

Tia answered this time. "We don't know how much time we have before the soul is reincarnated again, Rick. We don't dare wait."

Rick looked at the last rays of light from the setting sun, then at the half full glass of scotch in his hand. "God help us," he muttered, and knocked the drink back.

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Author's Notes:

I have no idea when or how Ramses II's mummy was examined or moved to Cairo, but it's currently in the Cairo Museum of Antiquities, completely unwrapped. I saw it recently on a Discovery Channel show. The mummy was lying in some sort of glass case, wrappings removed. I decided to leave the mummy in a made up facility near the temple of Hatshepsut for the purposes of my story. It was important that my characters do the "closing of the mouth" thing quickly, and I was also tired of having to have them run back and forth to Cairo all the time.

Thank you for the reviews, Lometari, LalaithCat and lilylynn.


	34. Chapter 34 Closing of the Mouth

Flight of Souls 

**Chapter 34 – Closing of the Mouth**

Robert Varne wandered away from the circle of tents that made up the headquarters of the O'Connell dig. Everyone else was preparing for Deir el-Bahri. Evie was consulting a thick book on Egyptian ceremonies and the other men were gathering up the things she said she needed.

"Rob?"

At the quiet voice, Robert turned to see Tia walking toward him. He looked at her warily. "Does Bey know you're over here? If I so much as glance in your direction he looks as though he'd like to cut me to shreds."

Tia smiled slightly. "I doubt he'd do that. I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry about your father. No one else is likely to say it."

Robert nodded. "I appreciate that, Tia."

"And I'm very, very sorry it happened as it did. It wasn't your fault, Rob. You mustn't feel guilty."

"It's nice of you to say so," Robert answered, "but it doesn't change the fact that I shot him. My own father."

Tia shook her head and placed a comforting hand on his arm. "He'd ceased to be your father, Rob. The part of him that was Ramses was taking over. There was nothing you could have done to change that. If you hadn't shot him, he might have killed all of us."

Robert smiled down at her and placed his own hand over hers. "You're a wonderful girl, Tia. Come back to Cairo with me. You deserve better than to be at the beck and call of some ignorant Arab tribesman."

"I trust I'm not interrupting."

At the cold, flat statement, both Robert and Tia whirled around to see Ardeth standing there, his hand on the hilt of his sword. Tia flinched as the icy black gaze turned to her. "Tia, go assist Evie." She glanced uncertainly at Robert and left. Ardeth then turned to Robert, speaking slowly and clearly. "If you ever touch my woman again, Varne, this ignorant Arab tribesman will kill you."

Robert said nothing, merely swallowed hard as Ardeth spun on his heel and stalked away.

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It was close to midnight. The car formerly belonging to Sir Randolph Varne sat silently on a side street near the facility where the mummies were housed. Even though the car probably legally belonged to Robert now, the rest of the group had ignored that. Rick sat in the driver's seat with Ardeth beside him. The two women and Robert were in the back seat, Evie in the middle. Robert was careful not even to look in Tia's direction.

"Now, you've been in there, right Evie?" Rick asked.

"Yes," she replied. "They gave me a tour when we came down here a few years ago. Unless things have changed, the mummies are in the storeroom, which is to the rear of the building."

"How do they study them?" Tia asked.

"The storeroom opens up to a laboratory of sorts," Evie explained. "That's where they work on them. "They were working on Merneptah last I knew. I think they'd planned to do Ramses II close to last."

Rick looked carefully up and down the street, and then got out of the car. Casually he strolled to the door and bent over the lock. Two minutes later, he had the door open. Quickly they all exited the car and filed into the building.

"Amateurish," Rick sniffed.

"Don't be smug, darling," Evie said severely. "There's nothing here but the actual mummies – no gold, jewelry, treasure or anything. It's not precisely a large target for thieves."

"That was easy," Ardeth commented as he went past.

"Checkered past." Rick shrugged and followed.

Evie led the way to the storeroom in the back. The room was large and plain. The walls were painted stark white, and the floor was bare concrete. A series of large shelves took up half the space. Evie walked among the shelves, checking the tags. "Here we go," she said. "Put him on the table."

Rick and Ardeth lifted the stiff, linen wrapped bundle and carefully set it on the table on the other side of the room. "That's it?" Rick inquired.

Evie pulled out a number of items from the knapsack she'll slung over her shoulder. "That's it." She pulled out a small sharp knife and started to work at the wrappings around the mummy's face. Everyone else watched in fascination as she carefully worked the wrappings free to expose the mouth. It was, as they had expected, wide open.

"How are you going to close it?" Rick asked. "The guy is as stiff as a board."

"If necessary, I'm going to have you break his jaw." Evie replied, checking the jaws for any hint of movement.

"Let me," Ardeth volunteered. He went over to stand next to Evie.

Tia turned away and moved to the other side of the room. She didn't particularly want to watch this. Rick followed her. Tia glanced at him as he came up to stand near her. "Aren't you afraid that Ardeth is going to be angry with you for speaking to me?" she asked sarcastically.

Rick shrugged. "He trusts me."

She glared at him. "Why doesn't he trust me? I tell Rob I'm sorry about his father, and Ardeth threatens to kill him."

Rick grinned. "He's jealous as hell of him, that's why."

Tia turned to look fully at Rick. "Jealous? What on earth for?"

"Wasn't he your boyfriend?"

"Yes, but it was never all that serious." She looked at Rick curiously. She opened her mouth to say something else, but was interrupted.

"Rick, come here!"

With one last smile at Tia, Rick returned to the table where his wife was working. They'd gotten the mouth closed, and Ardeth was holding it in that position.

"Would you warm up the sap?" Evie asked. Rick lit a candle, and then held a small glass jar over it.

"What is that?" Robert asked.

"Tree sap," Evie said absently, snipping off a short piece of linen from elsewhere on the mummy.

"What are you gong to do with tree sap?" Robert asked.

"I'm going to glue his mouth shut with it. The ancient Egyptians used a kind of sap or resin during mummification." she explained. "Is it warm yet?"

"Just about," Rick answered. He handed the jar to Evie, who dipped in a flat wooden stick. Ardeth opened the mouth slightly, and Evie spread the sap with the stick, chanting in ancient Egyptian as she did so. When she finished, Ardeth eased the mouth closed again, and held it that way. Evie spread a quantity of the sap onto the small piece of linen she'd cut, and then she pasted the piece across the mummy's mouth.

"There," she said. "Now we'll just wrap him back up again."

"Did it work?" Robert asked.

Evie glanced at Tia. "I think so," she answered. "Yes, I think so."

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Author's Notes:

Again, this facility and anything about it is made up.

LatinSpaceAngel – I think Nefertari, Nefertiri, Neferteri's name is spelled several different ways. The website I got a lot of my information from spelled it Nefertari, so that's what stuck in my head. Since the movie spelled it Nefertiri, that's probably what I should have used, seeing as this is a fanfic from a movie. It was originally written in hieroglyphics anyway, so spelling it out in letters is guesswork to start with. At this point there's no way to guess what the real Egyptian queen would have preferred. :)

Shahrezad1 – You're getting ahead of me! Hang on. :)

lilylynn – Thank you for the comments, I very much appreciate them.


	35. Chapter 35 Final Choice

Flight of Souls 

**Chapter 35 – Final Choice**

It was just after 3:00 am when they returned to the O'Connell's dig site. Tia entered the tent Evie had told her to use and sat wearily on the edge of the narrow cot. When was the last time she'd slept? She wasn't exactly sure. Did drugged unconsciousness count as sleeping? She removed her borrowed boots and bandaged her ankle again. Would Ardeth come in? Tia thought he probably would. After his words to Robert earlier this evening, he would think it his right. Words, she thought with a snort. Statement of ownership was more like it.

Tia's emotions were mixed. On one hand, she resented the hell out of Ardeth's arrogant attitude toward herself and Robert, even though she knew that according to his culture, she DID belong to him. On the other hand, she kept remembering the concern in his face and voice after saving her from near rape; how he'd smiled at her in the tomb. She remembered also the one night they'd shared together. He'd made her feel beautiful and desired. She'd felt that he'd cared for her, personally, not just because she'd been available to him. Tia shrugged to herself and started unbraiding her hair. Yes, he'd come to her, and he'd presume that her body was his to do with what he pleased. The question would be, would he come as the arrogant commander, or would he come as a lover?

Tia had just finished brushing her hair when Ardeth entered the tent a few minutes later. She watched him cautiously as he did up the ties that would hold the tent's flaps shut.

"I haven't had a chance to thank you yet, my lord," Tia said softly. "You saved my life."

For some reason the use of his title instead of his name irritated him. He shrugged. "It is my duty to protect you." He set down his weapons, undid his belt and sash, and dropped his robe on the end of the cot.

"Your duty. Of course." Tia smiled briefly and looked away. Yes, she thought, he was here as the commander.

Ardeth groaned inwardly. That certainly had been smooth. You'd think him a witless boy instead of a man of more than thirty years. "That cot is rather narrow, I think." He took the blankets and spread them on the floor of the tent. "That's better." He settled on the blankets and held out his hand. "Come, Tia."

Tia kept her gaze down as she knelt on the blankets beside him. If this was only duty, she knew hers as well. She would not deny him. You don't want to deny him, a small voice whispered in her mind.

Ardeth unbuttoned her shirt and slipped it off her shoulders. The sight of the numerous scrapes and bruises sent a flash of anger through him. He smoothed his hand over the skin of her shoulder and lightly kissed one of the scrapes. "It is my duty to protect you, Tia. It seems I haven't done a very good job of it."

"It wasn't your fault, my lord," she said.

"Ardeth," he corrected. "Call me Ardeth."

"If you like," she said.

"I like," he replied softly, just before lowering his mouth to hers.

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The day was far advanced by the time Tia woke. She and Ardeth were lying spoon fashion, her back pressed against his chest, his arm draped over her ribs. She could feel his breath in her hair, deep and even. He must still be asleep. She stretched carefully, trying not to disturb him. He stirred, however, and rolled onto his back. Tia eased away from him and sat up.

Asleep, the Medjai's face was relaxed, lacking the firmness that characterized his waking moments. He looked younger and more approachable. Tia let her eyes wander over his body, exposed by the blankets they'd kicked aside during the night. My, but he was a magnificent specimen of manhood! The strong, muscular chest was marred by several scars, and decorated by tattoos. Tattoos similar to the ones on his hands encircled his biceps. The words that came to her mind were 'beautiful' and 'powerful'.

He had surprised her again last night. She'd expected him to be the arrogant commander, taking what he wished without regard for her. Instead, he'd been the lover, coaxing her to fulfillment before achieving his own. She shook her head. The man was full of contradictions. He seemed so hard, cold and merciless, and then he turned around and was kind, considerate and warm.

The feeling of being stared at teased Ardeth awake. Opening his eyes, he saw Tia sitting beside him. When she realized that he was awake, she blushed and lowered her eyes. Amused, he turned and propped himself up on his elbow, reaching out with his other hand to caress her knee. "Why are you embarrassed?"

Tia blushed even deeper. "Because you're naked and you caught me staring at you."

"So are you, my love. I like what I see when I look at you. If you like what you see as well, I'm not at all displeased."

Tia picked up Ardeth's head cloth and draped it around her shoulders. It wasn't as large as the veil she'd worn back in the desert, but it covered essentials. "I know but I can't talk to you this way."

He chuckled and drew the blanket up over his hips. "Does that help?" When she nodded, he chuckled again. "Now what is it you want to say to me?"

Tia fidgeted with the edge of the head cloth. "It's about Robert." Uneasily she noted the amusement fading from his face and the dark eyes becoming harder. She rushed on. "Ardeth, there isn't anything between he and I. There never really was. You don't need to worry about that."

"Perhaps not on your side," Ardeth said dryly.

"I don't think on his either," Tia replied. "He wants to take care of me, wants to see me happy. That's not the same thing as wanting ME." When he remained silent, she went on. "The idea that he's actually a reincarnation of my son makes a lot of sense really. It feels like that. I'm very fond of him, but I don't want him in any sort of sexual way. Not the way that I want, uh, I mean….." Flustered, Tia went silent.

Ardeth sat up, pulling the blanket up with him and looked at Tia closely. "Do you really want me, Tia, or are you just trying to say what I want to hear?" He reached out and tipped her chin so that their eyes met. "Don't lie to me."

"Do you want to hear it?" Tia asked, uncertainly. "What do you feel for me, Ardeth? Just duty? Desire?"

"Duty, yes. Desire, certainly," Ardeth replied. "I also feel admiration. You're braver than you think, Tia. As for more than that, I want to take you home with me. I want to spend time with you."

"In bed?"

"And out of it," he answered honestly. "We've had little time together. I want to know you better than I do now. Will you come with me?"

Tia frowned slightly. "Have I a choice?"

"Yes," he answered. "I have already promised Rick O'Connell that if you wish it, I will leave you with them. You can work their dig, return to America, or pick up your life in Cairo. Whatever you want, Tia. The choice is yours."

She was silent for a long moment. He meant it. He'd let her go if that was her decision. "You're right, Ardeth. We have had little time to talk. I don't know you very well. You still make me nervous. You kill so easily."

His stomach clenched. Was she about to deny him? "Not easily. I don't kill for pleasure, Tia, only for reason. Nor do I have to do it frequently. If Rick and I were ever to compare notes, I suspect he has more notches in his gun belt than I do." At her surprised look, he added, "Ask him about his years in the French Foreign Legion sometime. The important thing is, however, that I would never hurt you. Never. You must believe that."

"I do believe it," she replied. "You've been very gentle with me. And," she smiled slightly, "your mother speaks very well of you."

He grinned. "So you got along well with my mother, did you?"

Tia smiled broadly. "Yes, I did. She's a remarkable woman."

"She is," he agreed. His smiled faded, and he reached out for her hand. "Come home with me. I enjoy your company, and I want you badly. Come with me."

Tia's fingers tightened around his. "Yes, I'll come."

He smiled with relief. "Are you going to tell me that you want me now? I would very much like to hear you say it."

She blushed, but answered. "I want you."

His smile widened. "Good." He pulled her toward him and claimed her lips with his. Tia kissed him back enthusiastically. The choice had been made.

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Not over yet, folks. Stick around for another few chapters, there's some loose ends still.

Psycho8 – Hi, I heard the same statement, about first wanting to have Evy be Nefertiti – I think it's on the Director's commentary off the Mummy Returns DVD. However, it really makes no sense at all with the plot they have. Nefertiti was Queen of Egypt from 1350-1335 BC, the wife of Akhenaten, the heretic Pharaoh. He wanted to eliminate the worship of all deities except one, Amun Ra, I think. Nefertari (or Neferteri or Nefertiri) was also a real person, the Queen of Ramses II, who reigned from 1290-1224 BC. Nefertari works perfectly with the plot they have. Nefertiti would have been more than 40 years too early. Perhaps they kicked around the idea of doing something in the era of Akhenaten, which would have made an interesting movie – lots of anger of the gods, religious fanaticism, etc – but they couldn't have worked in Seti I, Anck-sun-namun or Imhotep as easily based on the storyline they'd set up in the first Mummy movie. They might have come up with something else, though. Steve Sommers (the writer and director) doesn't seem to let historical accuracy get in the way of a good story!

Thanks Lometari, lilylynn and scarlet witch for reviewing!


	36. Chapter 36 Goodbye Robert

Flight of Souls 

**Chapter 36 – Goodbye Robert**

It was dusk. Once again the five members of the group were sitting around the fire eating the evening meal. Tia and Ardeth were sitting next to each other again, but this time she leaned comfortably against his shoulder. Rob watched the Medjai warrior put his hand possessively on her knee and saw her smile warmly up at him. He frowned into his plate.

"We'll go back to the desert with you," Rick was saying to the other couple. "I just need to contact our foreman and let him know we'll be delayed a while."

"Yes," Evie said. "How far from your camp is the Tirza site?"

"About six hours ride," Ardeth replied, "Not too far."

"How close is it to Hamunaptra?"

Ardeth looked at her dryly. "You don't need to know."

"Well, I was just thinking," Evie went on. "Since Imhotep isn't there anymore, there would be no reason not to excavate, would there?"

"It doesn't matter if he's there or not," Ardeth said firmly.

"I can see you not wanting me to go to Ahm Shere," she persisted, "but why not Hamunaptra?

"I am not going to tell you why," he replied calmly. "The answer is no."

"But…."

"Evie," Rick interjected. "If the Medjai don't want us there, we won't go. Stop harassing Ardeth about it."

"Does that mean there's something else that you're protecting?" Evie asked eagerly.

Ardeth merely looked up and gazed at her steadily. "Enough Evie."

Evie settled back with a sulky look on her face. "Oh all, right."

Rick grinned at Ardeth and then at his wife. "Not to worry, love. There's plenty of interesting sites in Egypt that have nothing to do with Hamunaptra."

Robert cleared his throat. "What about me?" When everyone looked over at him he continued. "Am I free to go, or am I a prisoner still?"

Rick and Ardeth exchanged quick glances. "You're free to go," Rick answered. "I don't need to mention that the Egyptian authorities would rather not know about our little adventures, do I?"

Robert glared at Ardeth. "You mean that you'd rather I didn't have you arrested for kidnapping and murder, right?"

"You forgot breaking and entering," Rick said casually, taking a sip of his scotch.

Ardeth shrugged, his demeanor turning icy as he looked contemptuously at Robert. "Who murdered who? If you feel the need to have me arrested, Varne, I'm sure I can tell the authorities a great deal about your father, not to mention who actually killed him." When Robert fell silent and looked away, the Arab gave a short, unamused laugh. "Don't threaten me, boy."

Tia put her hand on Ardeth's thigh and squeezed slightly. "I need to talk to Rob alone, Ardeth." He looked down at her and nodded slowly. If their relationship was to have a chance, he needed to trust her. She squeezed his leg again and got to her feet. "Come on, Rob," she said, taking his arm and leading him away from the fire.

Ardeth watched them go, wondering if he should follow and listen. Rick caught his eye. "Don't do it, pal." He grinned and took another sip of scotch. "Tempting though it might be, don't do it."

Ardeth grimaced and settled back. "I know."

As soon as they got out of earshot, Rob turned and spoke. "How can you allow that Arab to paw you like that?"

"Paw, me? Don't be foolish, Rob." Tia snapped.

"I can help you escape from him," urged Robert. "We can go back to Cairo. Back to England even. We need never come back to Egypt again. Let me help you, Tia. You need to be protected."

Tia waited patiently for him to finish. "Rob, I appreciate your offer, I really do. But I'm going to stay here. I'm going back to the desert with Ardeth."

"Why? You're just a possession to him. No more important than one of his horses."

"He's very fond of his horses," Tia replied dryly. "Rob, there's something between he and I, and I need to find out what it is."

"Don't tell me you're in love with him," Rob said bitterly. "You can't possibly be. He's just an ignorant nomad, stuck in the previous century."

"I don't know," Tia said with a shrug. "I might be. I need to find out for sure. Can't you understand that?"

"Don't tell me you want to spend the rest of your life as the whore of an Arab tribesman, living in a tent, cooking his meals and herding his sheep. You could have so much more. Marry me, Tia. When my father is found and confirmed dead, I'll inherit the title. You'll be Lady Varne. We'll quit Egypt and live in London. I'll be wealthy. You'll never want for anything."

Tia put her finger on his lips to stop him. "Don't Rob. You don't love me, not that way. You know that."

"Tia, I can't stand to think of you living that way!"

She smiled at him. "The only thing I'll miss is hot running water," she said humorously. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. And stop insulting Ardeth. You don't understand him, and you haven't bothered to try."

"What happens if you find out a year from now that what you feel isn't love at all? You'll be trapped in the desert."

"He's promised that I can leave at any time. He'll even escort me to Luxor or Cairo if I wish, and he's nothing if not a man of his word. So stop it, Rob. Be happy for me."

He stared into space. Was there nothing he could say to convince her? "Will you come to me if things don't work out for you here?"

She smiled sadly. "No, Rob. You don't deserve that. You need more than I can give you. Let it go." He was silent, staring out into the darkness. "Take the car and go back to Cairo in the morning." She rose on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Good-bye Rob. God bless."

He watched her as she walked back to the fireside. Ardeth rose and reached for her hand. She smiled, and led him into the tent they shared. Good-bye Tia, he thought. Good-bye.

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Author's notes:

Thanks LalithCat, OnThoseEyes and lilylynn. I appreciate your continued interest. Antonia – Good point.

Almost done, one more chapter.


	37. Chapter 37 And Last

Flight of Souls 

**Chapter 37 – And Last**

One month later.

Tia stood in her Cairo apartment and looked around carefully. She'd given away most of her possessions, only keeping some clothes and those things most important to her. Everything was packed and ready to go. She picked up the newspaper sitting on the table and reread the story.

American Woman Found in the Desert.

Tia DeWitt, an American citizen was found last week in the desert near Luxor. She had been a member of an archeological team that had been investigating an ancient burial site. Nomadic tribesmen had attacked their team, and the other members of the party were killed. Miss DeWitt survived the attack and lived alone in the desert for some weeks until rescued by noted Egyptologists Evelyn and Richard O'Connell, whom were themselves scouting out a possible excavation site. The O'Connells conveyed Miss DeWitt to Cairo. Unfortunately, she was unable to provide any details about the identity of the particular tribe who attacked the group. Egyptian authorities have declared that because of the attack, the area is considered unsafe, and further explorations of that region are forbidden until further notice. We are pleased to report that Miss DeWitt is unharmed and in good health following her ordeal. She is quoted as saying she was extremely fortunate that the team's supplies were enough to see her through until rescue."

She smiled in amusement. It wasn't completely a lie. She set the newspaper down again and glanced at a second one, dated a week previously. "In a hitherto undiscovered annex in the tomb of Ramses the Great, Sir Randolph Varne, an English nobleman, was discovered dead of an apparent suicide. According to Varne's servants, Sir Randolph had been acting oddly for several weeks before his disappearance. Sir Randolph's heir, his son Robert, is quoted as saying he will be selling his father's holdings in Egypt and returning permanently to Great Britain."

Tia looked at her watch. Nearly time to go.

As she waited, her mind traveled back to the excavation site at Tirza. She, Ardeth, Rick and Evie had gone there after leaving the O'Connell's dig site on the west bank of Thebes. They'd uncovered the stone door of the tomb again, and had entered it. The sight had reduced Tia to tears. It was a small tomb, barely ten feet square, and the decorations were sparse. There was only the minimum of funerary products. The two sarcophaguses stood on either side of the doorway. Canopic jars made from painted clay stood in niches above the coffins. A statue of Bes, the dwarf god of midwives and children stood looking down from a stone pedestal.

The coffin on the right was smaller than the other one. Carefully the four of them opened the coffin and exposed the mummy within. Evie delicately removed the wrappings around the mummy's face to expose the mouth, which was tightly closed. As the others watched, Tia picked up a small adze, – iron, for the metal of heaven - and inserted it in the mouth. Gently she pried the mouth open as Evie chanted in ancient Egyptian. "Awake! May you be alert as a living one, rejuvenated every day, healthy in millions of occasions of god sleep, while the gods protect you, protection being around you every day." The chant was repeated an additional three times, for Horus – the falcon headed god, Seth – god of storms, death, evil and chaos, and Thoth – god of knowledge and secrets.

Immediately, Tia felt a sense of relief and completion. She would no more be troubled by dreams of a small boy with beseeching eyes. The soul of Horemheb was free. It would take flight during the day and travel the world as it saw fit, and at night it would return to the body of the small child. Or perhaps, the soul would join with a new body and live again.

Tia and Evie exchanged warm smiles, and Evie carefully rewrapped the mummy's face. Rick and Ardeth maneuvered the heavy coffin lid back on. It was done.

Tia stood for a moment, idly running her hand over the sarcophagus. So much had happened! Evie came up behind her. "Here," she said. "Take these."

The American girl turned around to see the other woman holding out a pair of earrings. Tia picked them up. "I recognize these," she said slowly, fingering the lapis stones set in gold. "They were my favorite. I was wearing them when Imhotep abducted me. And I was wearing them when I died."

Evie smiled. "I had them buried with you. Take them. For remembrance."

In the apartment in Cairo, Tia reached up and fingered the earrings. She'd worn them often since then. It was silly, she knew, to wear something so valuable. Still, she couldn't resist. They were indeed for remembrance. She could set aside the terrified girl who'd been abused and murdered, and remember the pretty, gentle princess who'd lived contentedly in her father's palace – playing music, listening to poets and amusing the young children. Rest in peace, Tiye.

The dreams of a sad and beseeching Horemheb had ceased, as she'd thought they would. She'd dreamed once since, of a laughing, playing child with mischievous eyes. Her hand crept to her stomach. Perhaps it was too soon to be sure, but she had a feeling.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs outside her door brought her out of her reverie. The door opened to reveal the tall, handsome Medjai warrior with the symbols of Ma'at on his face. "Are you ready to go?" Ardeth asked.

"Yes," she said, smiling warmly at her lover. "I'm ready to go home."

The End.

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Author's Notes:

Whew! Completely finished. Hope everyone enjoyed it. Thank you very much lilylynn, Lometari and ephona, who reviewed more than anyone else. mrsblonde1503, tellergirl and Nakhti also reviewed several times, and LalaithCat, scarlett witch, Shahrezad1, Momints, Liel, eris, Satiana, Mistress of Mordor and dshael chimed in more than once. Thanks are also due those who only reviewed once – I hope they continued to read. I enjoyed writing the story, but it's the reviews that kept my ego stroked enough to keep going. I'm kicking around ideas for a sequel. When and if I get it going I'll let you know.


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